


The Color of Poison

by MintToy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Bounty Hunters, Drama, F/M, Fantasy, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Romance, Sakuracentric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:25:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintToy/pseuds/MintToy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Victorian/1800s] In a world riddled with political conflict, roaming beasts and convicts questing for power, Sakura spends her life crossing lines. And as a bounty hunter, what was supposed to be a simple mission to abduct the Hyuuga heir unexpectedly forces her to take the gamble of a lifetime. Alternate Universe. Sakuracentric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Midnight Blue

_Losing my marbles won’t stop me from playing the game._

Stonewalls. A Familiar Face. Playing with Fire.

* * *

The violin plays a soft and joyful tune in the background.

And as townsfolk chatter amongst themselves in their separated niches and corners, Sakura prefers to be alone. Around her, vendors attempt to seal their transactions while buyers try to barter for less, but amidst this calm noise, she takes a large bite out of the succulent apple with nonchalance.

Sitting atop a stack of wooden crates, she slouches her shoulders and swings her legs below her because for the first time this month, she’s finally content. And so, she stuffs her mouth with another eager bite, not bothering to wipe the apple juices running down the side of her mouth. Passerby – mostly women – shoot disgusted looks at her unrefined and piggish mannerisms, but hell would freeze over once Sakura gave a damn about it.

“Enjoying your snack, aren’t ye, lassie?”

Pausing midway in taking another bite, she turns to the owner of the voice – the scraggly bearded merchant who sold her the apple earlier – and lowers her hand, shooting a fabricated smile in his direction.

“What can I say? It tastes great,” she remarks, attempting to be cheeky about it.

The old man nods at her compliment, a suggestive smile painted on his face. “Well, I can git’ you some more, if yer’ still hungry.”

For a small moment, she actually considers his offer, but once her eyes find the quickly darkening orange sunset in the horizon, she realizes that she can’t wait around for too long.

“Hmm. Thanks, but I think I’ve had my fill.” With the same eagerness, Sakura finally sinks her teeth onto the last bite of the fruit before quickly discarding the skinny core. Pushing herself off her makeshift seat, she bends to pick up her sack and hauls it over her shoulder.

“So where are ye off to now, miss?”

She smiles breezily at her current companion and gestures to the street ahead. “Off to meet someone. See you around, old man.”

The vendor puts on an expressive smile, lifting a hand to bid goodbye. “Have a gud’ night, lass. ‘Till next time.”

* * *

(Later that night)

_Click. Click. Click. Click._

Her footsteps resound the black and empty hallways with loud echoes, beating steadily. In the deep of night, the eerie and ghostly atmosphere of the castle ruins is especially enhanced, but she pays it no mind; this is not her first time.

As it is, the air is putrid and dank – a perfect match for the crumbling and decrepit stonewalls. It smells of musty and stale mildew, but for someone as obscure and _hunted_ as Orochimaru, she supposes that this is a sensible meeting place, no matter how squalid.

In one hand, she holds fast to that telltale sack of a successful kill. And if anyone dares to question that she murders people for a living, she would gladly haul out her victim’s bloody head out of the sack to prove it to them.

With her chin up and tired strides, she marches unerringly towards the witch’s office, ready to rid of this rancid sack. At first, no doubt she was morally bothered and disgusted by this particular business: You find a bounty agent, accept a mission, kill (or fail to kill) your designated target and return it to the client for money. No strings attached. No insurance. Just a simple contract.

Her first victim was the hardest, but over time, she thinks she found something worth gaining. Not just the money, but perhaps a sadistic sense of accomplishment. And if her 20-year-old self was told that this would be her life at 26, she would be utterly repulsed.

Seeing a faint light emanating beneath the large wooden doors, she pushes the door open and peeks her head in.

“Ah Sakura, finally you’ve arrived. Come in,” the wretched _Snake_ greets and bids her closer. “How was your mission?”

“Fine,” she answers curtly, entering the office and stopping short in front of his desk. With a careless _plop_ , she drops the sack in front of him with an expectant look. “As requested… here I introduce Atsuko the priest, from Orian Village. Decapitated, of course.”

Orochimaru smirks wickedly. Without caution or respect whatsoever, he fishes out the repugnant head from the bag and lays it on its side for inspection. As usual, its skin is drained of color, its mouth agape and the eyes lackluster in all its lifeless form. Sakura holds her nose from the foul smell of dried-up blood and remarks that Orochimaru must be immune to rotting heads by now considering how seemingly unaffected he is.

“Hmm, so it is… condition is good, cut is clean…” Orochimaru comments, turning the bounty on its other side for inspection.

Once thoroughly satisfied, he grabs the head by the hair and sticks it back into the bag, allowing her to breathe again. Lacing his fingers together, he rests them gently on the desk and looks up at her with satisfaction.

“I suppose that’s another completed bounty for you, my dear…” he says in a low tone. “I must say, your track record is only getting better. It implies much about how you’ve changed over these years.”

She rolls her eyes at the statement because she despises when he pokes at her past like that, especially when she spends each tiring day trying to forget it. Even so, she’s uncertain whether these ‘accomplishments’ are worth any sort of boast. Quickly dismissing the thought, she redirects the conversation. “Where’s my money?”

“Well, aren’t you an eager one?” he tantalizes as he gently places the bag in the corner of the room.

Being impudent and shameless as she is, Sakura doesn’t answer; his treacherous and deceptive nature no longer a novelty at this point. She just crosses her arms, shifts her weight on her other foot and raises an eyebrow at him, silently communicating that she prefers if he skips the small talk.

Thankfully, he obliges with her this time round and reaches his hand into one his coat pockets. He pulls out four gold coins and one-by-one, flicks them in her direction.

“Fine. As promised, Sakura. Eighty-percent of the reward.”

She nods her head stiffly and stuffs the dull metals in her pouch. Considering that Orochimaru is the liaison between her and the clients, he reasoned that he should earn a portion of the reward. And because she’s not personally interested in keeping track of the clients herself, the loss of income has never bothered her.

She sighs with exhaustion. “Alright then, I’m off. I’ll find you again in two days for another assignment,” Sakura prompts, turning around to leave.

“Wait, before you go…” he pipes up before she can reach the door. She stops in her tracks and remains unturned, lingering a while longer to listen to his parting words. “Sakura. I’m aware that you like your breaks, but should you change your mind, know that I have…” He pauses briefly, as if carefully phrasing his next words. “…an _interesting_ mission that might appeal to you.”

She turns her head over her shoulder, not at all surprised to see the cunning smile drawn on his face.

For Orochimaru to lure her into another job right away is intriguing. She knows that she’s mentally skewed, but this occupation has done a good of job of blurring the lines between good and bad. With each successful mission, she knows that she tears people apart. She knows she distorts relationships and families. She knows that her actions hurt more people than she cares to think. Not only that, days of constant concentration, scheming, living in the shadows and sleeping with one eye open is exhausting in itself. Her job being _illegal_ and taxing as it is, it’s not something she can do everyday. But curious as she is, she remains still and looks pointedly at the Snake.

“Who’s the target?”

He chuckles in such a dishonest matter that she wonders how exactly this man came to embody a deceitful nature in everything he does. Curiously, she watches as he pulls out a wrinkled and worn-out news page from his pocket.

“ _This_ ,” he says, tossing the page at her. “…contains everything you need to know.”

A momentary silence stretches between them as Sakura unrolls the document and skims through its contents. Truth be told, she’s actually read this before. In fact, this news spread like wildfire as soon as it was announced.

As the gears in her head start turning, Orochimaru grins when he spots her inquisitive green eyes peeking above the parchment paper.

She comes to a conclusion soon enough. “Hinata Hyuuga?”

Orochimaru licks his lips with his snake-like tongue. “Precisely. Though, I don’t think that comes as a surprise to you.”

Sakura shakes her head. “It doesn’t. But I’m just wondering… _why_?”

Orochimaru’s grin disappears, quickly replaced with a scowl. He straightens up and leans forward to face her more squarely. “Are you refusing?”

Sakura contemplates the situation carefully. A bounty request for the Hyuuga Princess requires a skilled and expert hunter at the very least. No doubt she would be wanted alive – her worth is found only in her title and prestige – but the Princess is protected within a secure compound, surrounded by guards that watch her every move. Not only that, her newly betrothed is surely something of a hindrance.

_Naruto Uzumaki._

You’d have to live under a rock not to have heard his name. Truth is, he defeated the Demon Fox that terrorized their country for so long. And with that sort of reputation, Sakura would rather _not_ cross paths with him.

Sighing loudly, she removes the distasteful expression on her face. “So the Hyuuga heir, then?”

Orochimaru, satisfied once again, nods his head. “Indeed. Now, considering the… _fragility_ of the task, I expect your return in two fortnights time. Think you can manage that?”

She quickly adds up the numbers in her head. A week for travel, another week for infiltration and scope, one night to abduct the Hyuuga target, perhaps another week allowed for return…

After a full minute, she nods her head. “Fine. One month it is, give or take a couple of days.”

He grins at her quick acceptance and sudden change of heart and rises from his seat. Beckoning her to follow him, he leads her to another desk where a map of the entire continent is spread out. He places a marker on a particular area. “As you know, the Hyuuga residence is located in the city of _Prath_.”

Sakura pauses to cringe at the mere mention of the name because she _abhors_ everything about this damned city.

“…I’m sure you are well aware, but you will have to devise a plan that raises no suspicion. I’ve no care how you do it, or when you do it, but I want her back _alive_. If you must know, she will come at a hefty price tag,” Orochimaru explains.

Sakura rolls her eyes.

“Lastly, my dear, I know you’re questioning why I’ve selected _you_ for this mission. First of all, you grew up in Prath, so I entrust that your familiarity with the city will serve you well… However, since you were also previously _exiled-_ ”

“Orochimaru, quit it. I thought we agreed to forgo that. Can we just act as if it didn’t happen?” Sakura cuts him off icily and defensively.

He smiles faintly at the girl. “Ah, yes. I’m aware. However, since I don’t want to risk failure, I am assigning someone to aid and check on you periodically.”

At this, her eyes widen. “What! I don’t need that!”

She’s not usually one to shout, but this time she really means it. So far, she’s only been on _two_ collaborative missions, but both times, she was planning both the deaths of her target and partner. Previously, she thought that _she_ was screwed up, but that changed when she met _them_. One of them spent the entire mission trying to convert her to believe in some bizarre and ridiculous god named ‘Jashin’ and the other one boasted loudly about ‘becoming his art’ and was too preoccupied having one-sided conversations with his puppets to even help.

“Now now, Sakura. Don’t be so hasty. You never worked with this one before,” he tries to reason. “However, I must warn you that he _is_ a little bit of a recluse…”

She rolls her eyes, and holds fast to her presumption.

“He won’t accompany you all throughout. Rather, he’ll just drop on occasion since he has another task of his own,” Orochimaru explains, retiring back to the chair behind the desk. “… As for meeting this individual, you are to make a stop at Menesfield where he will provide you with identification so you can enter Prath without ruckus.”

“Can I have this person’s name in advance?”

He dismisses her concern with a hand. “Sakura, that is unimportant. What _is_ important is that you focus. There is no room for failure, no room for mistake and certainly no need for distraction. You have to understand that this _needs_ to be done. Believe me, there are others trying to get to her first,” he goes off, tone almost reprimanding in nature.

Sakura narrows her eyes at the witch and crosses her arms. “Okay, so why bother to do it at all? I mean, you’re not really one to take such competitive bargains. Is the client offering a large wad of cash? Is that what’s pulling your tail? Or are you trying to make an impression on somebody?”

Orochimaru shakes his head. “You’re misconstrued, little girl. The client who demands this is like none other. Trust me.”

“Then who is it? Who’s this _earnest_ patron you speak of?” she asks, hinting at irritation because Orochimaru is rarely ever this vague.

Unexpectedly, when he bows his head and gazes up at her this time round, his smile is so sinister and illusive that even she backs up at the sight of it.

“ _Me_.”

Oddly enough, the simple response invokes an unwelcome small shudder down her spine, enough to keep her mouth shut and leave her hanging. For a brief moment, she thinks that the stakes have been heightened and suddenly, she’s at odds with her decision.

Thinking more clearly though, she knows she can’t let herself be perturbed by the mere fact. Orochimaru or not, the buyer is never her concern. Recovering quickly from her momentary lapse, she straightens up again, attempting to appear unruffled by the statement. Sensing no more purpose in this conversation, she exchanges one final nod at Orochimaru and turns on her heel to make for the door.

“Two fortnights, Sakura! Don’t forget.”

“I know! Hard to disappoint a pretty face like yours, right?” she jests insolently, shooting him a sarcastic smile behind her shoulder.

Orochimaru scoffs loudly behind her. “It’s never stopped you before.”

“Ha. See you in a month, _witch_.”

And with that, she exits with another objective, target and deadline in mind. Sakura knows she’s playing with fire here, but just like every other day in this damned world, the plan remains the same: she’ll try her best not to get burned.


	2. Amaranth Red

Poison Brewing. Menesfield. A Change of Countenance.

* * *

The next morning, Sakura's perched lazily atop a stool, flipping though more news pages revealing the details of Hinata and Naruto's widely popular engagement. She likes to think that she's 'studying' her target, but maybe she's just refusing to admit that she might be slightly interested.

_How did the Hero win the Princess's heart? Where will they be wed? Have they scheduled a date?_

At the same time, there's about three glass jars of poison brewing simultaneously at varying heights over a fire burner. It's dangerous to initiate several chemical reactions like this all at once, but she decides to have some faith in her skill.

Since accepting her new bounty request to abduct the Hyuuga heir, Sakura forced herself up at the break of dawn to book a room at the Chemists' Lab to restock her supplies because at this point, she must have poisoned at least half of her victims. Some unlucky ones were poisoned to death, some just paralyzed until decapitation, and some were fortunate to have only been knocked unconscious. And for all this, her hard-earned title as the 'Poison Witch' – or more despicably, the 'Poison Tramp' – has gained her much renown throughout the continent.

In this day and age, soldiers and bounty hunters are commonly swordsmen, but not her. Even prior to working for Orochimaru, poison study came relatively easy to her. And it became no question that it would be her greatest asset. But so far, others have called it weak, cowardly, immoral even (she's a murderer for goodness sakes), but there's no denying that it's exceedingly useful for strategy and stealth, especially for someone who prefers not to fight in close combat like her.

Scattered all around her worktable lie several substances that she's gathered from her travels. Bloods of animals, rare venoms, alcohol solutions, some ammonia and other herbs and substances that could be of use. Earlier, Karin had quipped that all she needed was a witch's cauldron.

Turning the newspaper page, she finally admits to herself that the material _is_ somewhat petty, so she sets it aside, deciding sensibly that she should be monitoring her bubbling solutions instead. Trapped underneath a hideous gasmask, she's finding it hard to breathe so she adjusts the straps just loose enough to prevent inhalation. As much as she enjoys experimenting and brewing poisons, the chemicals are dangerous. Thus, it a cardinal rule – no matter how uncomfortable and claustrophobic – to don the metal heavy, bug-eyed and bulky mask so she doesn't inhales the fumes.

After long minutes of silent observation, she jumps when there's an abrupt knock on the door.

"Sakura, it's me, Karin. I'm coming inside!"

Sakura realizes her mistake a bit too late and when she does, her eyes widen and adrenaline forces her to _move_. Just as the redhead is opening the door ajar, Sakura's already out of her seat and is hauling herself to slam the door back shut. A sharp pain seizes her right shoulder she hits the hardwood door with a loud _thump_ and in the following seconds, she hears Karin stumbling backwards and groaning in protest on the other side of the door.

"Sakura, for goodness' sakes… you knocked my glasses off. Thanks for the warning _,_ " Karin grumbles sarcastically from the other side.

Sakura leans with her back against the door, panting mildly. "Sorry! I forgot to hang the warning sign. I'm brewing so wear a mask."

She hears Karin grumbling even more from the other side, probably from the shared sentiment of wearing the ill-fitting and abominable, but protective facemask. Regarding Karin, she also works under Orochimaru. Not as a bounty hunter, but as an assistant during his human experiments. And although the redhead can be critical and pushy sometimes, she's still the only one that Sakura can really tolerate so far.

This time when Karin's ready, Sakura opens the door for her with a sheepish smile and ushers her towards the worktable. Whilst Sakura makes a quick check at her solutions, Karin comfortably takes the seat across from her.

"The boss sent me…" the redhead starts, adjusting herself on the stool. "He wanted me to give you this."

Sakura pauses and looks up, catching the pouch Karin pulls out of her pocket and tosses to her. Shifting to an empty space on the worktable, Sakura carefully dumps the contents from the bag.

"It's just some coin. A parting gift for the road, I suppose." Karin explains.

"Oh. It seems that the Snake _does_ have a heart," she jokes, while Karin shrugs in response. Sakura doesn't even bother to count them as she slides the coins back in the pouch and into her pocket quickly after. Directing her attention back to her experiments, she bends forward and carefully adjusts one of the jars higher on the pipe to let it cool. Meanwhile, Karin has taken to observing the disarray of labeled solutions scattered about on the desk. Finding herself particularly curious with one of them, the redhead carefully picks one up to hold at eye level.

"Lizard venom, huh? That's a rarity. They don't sell this at the black market. So tell me, how'd you get a hold of it?"

The pink-haired girl, half-listening and half-concentrating on her work, scoffs underneath her mask. "Karin, let's just assume that I resorted to doing something I wasn't proud of," she hints, removing one of the jars from its pipe holder after deeming it a failed trial.

Her companion throws her head back and barks out a laugh, well aware of Sakura's _questionable_ methods of obtaining such rare substances – no doubt she's alluding to her obscure animal hunts and unjustifiably cruel methods of extracting venoms.

"So how's the lizard doing anyway?" Karin needles, knowing that Sakura is rolling her eyes underneath that mask.

"If you must know, it's still _alive_ ," she declares with an odd sense of pride. "The results were unsuccessful, so I let it go."

Thankfully, Karin doesn't prod the issue any further, her interest quickly renewed with the stack of news pages that Sakura had set aside earlier. Taking advantage of the silence, Sakura slips on a pair of gloves and retrieves one of the empty vials on her belt. With a look of concentration, she cautiously removes the cooling reaction and slowly pours it into the glass vial. Much to her delight, this one is a successful trial.

"Hm… this Uzumaki boy. Did you know him? I mean, at all? Back when you lived in Prath?" Karin asks, still mindlessly skimming through the news contents.

One hand at a time, Sakura removes her gloves and tosses them on the table. "Oh we were the very best of friends," she scoffs with a hint of sarcasm, despite the snapshots of largely forgotten and unwanted memories reeling in her mind.

Karin stops to look at the girl across her. "Hmm. I can't tell if you're joking."

Sakura instinctively pauses to look at her seriously, but then she remembers that Karin can't see her face with this mask over her head. "Alright, well maybe we weren't _the_ best of friends, but… friends nonetheless. I mean, we were the same age, went to the same school… Bottom line, I grew up with him. I found him very annoying."

"Pfft. Well, you're obviously not friends anymore," Karin jests in humor. "What happened?"

Sakura rolls her eyes. "You know what happened. _This…_ " she answers, motioning vaguely to nothing, but knowing Karin will get the message anyway. "…happened."

"Hmm. Tell me more," Karin badgers in a falsely sweet tone.

Sakura raises an eyebrow, slightly suspicious of her request, but cautiously allows herself to ponder in retrospection anyway. "Well… for one, if you remember, I was-"

"Whoa, whoa. Stop there. The question was a _test_. Sakura, you know I don't do backstories. Or any stories, for that matter," Karin says, closing the news pages shut and putting the material away.

On the other side, Sakura chides herself for falling for it. "Damn. I should have known this was going to be about your ludicrous life doctrine."

"Hey, watch it. It is _not_ ludicrous. Don't deny it. And it's not just you, but everyone associated with that damn Snake. Even myself," Karin retorts defensively. "Has it ever crossed your mind why our stories always _reek_? Some of us are cowards. Others are washouts. And the rest of us are failures. I mean, we're all just walking disasters. We wouldn't be working for Orochimaru otherwise," she starts. "Let me tell you this, Sakura. If it's one thing I've learned in my time here, it's that Misery. Loves. Company," she enunciates clearly. "So… forgive me if I've no interest in sharing the details of your woes and misfortunes – I've enough of that of my own."

As much as Sakura hates to think so abstractly about life, Karin's bold words ring true.

For someone as unstable as the redhead, she's developed quite the perspective on life. It's flimsy philosophy at best, but it keeps her from falling off the edge. For one, Karin no longer dwells in the past. She only looks forward. Over the years, she's taken all of her memories, sealed it and thrown it behind her. Sakura hasn't found out what sort of terrible things the redhead has been through, but she knows Karin's never looked back. Because according to her, there are 'far better things ahead than any left behind'. True and insightful words, she has to admit. But although Sakura herself doesn't prefer to ground herself in the same reality, she admires Karin for constructing her own. It's actually made life more _tolerable_ for the redhead.

And so, from the other side of the table, Sakura takes no offence. "Sorry about that."

Karin waves off her apology with nonchalance. "Don't be. I'm just a stickler," she jokes. Changing the topic, Karin gestures to the news pages tossed haphazardly on the desk. "So Prath, huh? Is that your next destination?"

"Uh-huh. I'm leaving next sunrise. Hopefully, I'll be at Menesfield in the afternoon, and then I'm riding to Prath afterwards." Deeming her last poison finished, Sakura carefully puts out the fire and removes the jar.

"It's been about… what, five years now? Are you going to see dear old Mother?" Karin asks with mild interest.

"Umm… _six_ years, actually," she corrects, calculating the numbers in her head. "And no. Last I heard, my Mom moved out after I was gone. I haven't seen her since, not that she wants anything to do with me."

"Hmm. What a shame."

Sakura hears Karin's stool grinding against the wooden floorboards and she looks up, watching the redhead rising out of her seat. She can't decipher expressions accurately behind that mask, but Karin appears as if she has another errand to run.

"Well, I was just dropping by. I'm afraid I've other things to do. Best of luck in Prath. I know you despise it there, but come back in one piece, alright?"

Sakura gives her the faintest of smiles and nods her head. "Sure."

Once Karin shuts the door behind her, Sakura finds herself alone again. Doing a onceover of the different bloods and venoms still scattered on the table and considering the _time_ that she has left, she sighs heavily. She's only finished _two_ thus far and has many left to brew.

This is going to be a long day.

* * *

The next daybreak, before Sakura heads off for Menesfield, she decides a change in attire is suitable.

She'll have to blend with the crowd so she slips into a pair of fitting dark trousers, a fresh beige tunic and the same worn-out boots. Of course, women generally opt to wear dresses and long skirts in this time, but Sakura cannot take the chance of tripping on her own dress whilst she escapes restricted compounds. So for practicality's sake, she dons a pair of pants and pretends to be a traveler from a foreign land of odd fashion trends. And after tucking her hair back with an elastic and confirming her satchel full of poisons, she deems herself ready to go and heads off.

If she isn't lugging with her another person or decapitated head, the travelling portion is perhaps the most peaceful. Riding the paths through the grassy landscapes is a scenic route all on its own and the warm breeze splitting past her is nothing short of exhilarating. It's perhaps the best thing about these missions.

However, she eventually finds that there are as many drawbacks to travelling so frequently as she does. Ever since she started working for Orochimaru, she's never had a proper place to call home. During nights, she ends up having to pick from three options: (1) she could either find shelter at the nearest lodging, (2) she could pick a clean grassy spot and call it a bed, or (3) she could just not sleep at all. Sometimes, she finds herself yearning for stability, but at the end of the day, she knows deep down that she wouldn't change a thing.

According to Orochimaru, her supposed aide is supposed to arrive at sundown. So hours later, when the sky is still orange and she slows her horse down to read the rustic sign with a dully written 'Menesfield', she's surprised that she's early.

After checking her horse in a convenient stable housed at the village entrance, Sakura allows herself to breathe in her surroundings.

This town is so _quaint_. And relatively small too. The buildings here are made of old wooden frames and are capped at two floors. Largely considered a rest stop, this village houses more tourists and travelers more than permanent residents. And with this kind of demand, it's no question that sidelining all the narrow streets are shelters and inns, all advertising their 'quality' rooms on large wooden signs.

Moving forward, Sakura walks along the cobblestone path, shuffling past a farmer and his small herd of cattle towards the circular-shaped main clearing. A small fountain sits in the middle, where tourists stop to sit, read and converse with others, but she moves towards the bulletin board. Just like the village itself, this access point is terribly small and has room for only one meager panel tacked with years worth of old and outdated news.

She sighs. Not even five minutes here and she's already growing tired of the idle nature of this rest stop. She dislikes that this place is merely a stepping-stone to the actual mission grounds. That she can't leave, let alone get ahead with her plans until she's met this person. From past experiences, she's learned that waiting is the most aggravating thing when it has no purpose. And with regards to this meeting… she has yet to see any particular value to it.

With one look at the sunset sky, she lets out a long yawn. _God, I am so tired_. It finally registers to her that she hasn't slept properly in days. That last mission wasn't a walk in the park either, and she knows that this one won't be an easier. So in consideration of her 'well-being' _,_ she traverses to the nearest tavern.

If this meeting is so important, she'll leave it up to the other person to find her.

* * *

Tonight's pub is fairly quiet. Everyone here is either drunk or halfway there, but the bar is nearly empty so she should be somewhat grateful. Sitting at a corner barstool, the wide berth between her and the others makes it easy for her to observe the rest of the bar.

Some days are really good; some days she's really drunk, but it's night like these that she just wants the day to end. Sitting and waiting for someone with whom she has no pretext and has no desire of meeting feels like being stranded in limbo – time itself is put on hold until this individual shows up. Not only that, she's a tired mix of cold, hungry, empty and wasted, and all she can think of is maybe she should have taken a break after all. At this point, she's already teetering back and forth between forgetting and remembering her initial objective of being here.

Downing a shot of a foul smelling liquid, her face scrunches up and she hisses as the familiar burn of alcohol makes its way down to her stomach. Slapping the glass bottle down on the counter, Sakura sneaks a look at the bartender, whose expression is a blend between pity and tenderness.

He's been watching her down one after another, probably expecting her to lose it, but Sakura's built up an impressive tolerance over these past few years. Although she's already lost count of how many she's drunk today, she still feels perfectly aware despite feeling pleasantly lightheaded. And as she watches the bartender pour another drink into a glass, she shoots him a quizzical look when he sets the drink down right in front of her.

"From the man at the table. He's asking if you're interested," he says plainly, gesturing to a particular location behind her.

Sakura makes no attempt to look at her admirer. Instead, she pushes the glass back in the barman's direction. "Tch. I don't want it," she murmurs. Quickly tipping a few coins to pay her tab, Sakura takes this as her cue to leave and rises from her stool. She doesn't know if it's her unusual pink hair or the fact that she's always alone, but she's always had that tendency to attract the most raucous and sleazy men who insist on showing her a 'good time'. Adding the fact that she doesn't wholly trust her instincts right now, the last thing she wants to do now is cause trouble.

Sliding her coat on, she picks up her belongings and moves for the door. Considering her slightly intoxicated state, she's surprised at the decency of her balance and gait. Perhaps she didn't push it overboard after all.

"Hey sweets!" she hears a voice, loud and rowdy from across the room. She looks up ahead, unimpressed to see that it's her _admirer_ calling out to her in his drunken stupor. "Be a darling, would ya? I'm doing you a favor! Bein' a gentleman and all!"

Sakura stops herself, pausing to look at the exuberant man and his cheering group of wasted friends with condolence and false empathy. He's the type of drunk who'll make noise just for the sake of making noise. The type who waves his bottle around while laughing obnoxiously at the stupidest jokes. Loud and harmless, really, but has a penchant for making messes.

She smiles daintily with false sweetness at the man. "Oh, you're no gentleman." And when she moves to walk past him, the man rises from his seat and intentionally maneuvers himself to block her path, probably from disapproval of her comment.

"Aww was' wrong, sweetheart? Why dun' you give me a chance? Who knows… maybe I could change your mind?" he slurs, wiggling his eyebrows at her while his cohort of friends laugh and roar out in encouragement behind him. Sakura sighs; this night is quickly taking a turn for the worst. Sizing up her 'admirer', she notes that he's larger than she had estimated (but nothing she can't handle hopefully), but standing firm, she just smiles and refuses to give him the pleasure of being intimidated.

"Come on, les' go back to ma place. I can show you a few tricks…" he suggests, grinning wildly as he opens his arms in a welcome gesture. "Think about it. I mean, we're all jus' tryin' to have a good time here, right?" Even as he's stepping closer to her, Sakura doesn't budge. With his state of mind, he probably thinks his approach his working – that she's loosening up to him – but thankfully she knows better.

"Is that so? You know, I can show you a few tricks as well," she remarks slyly. The large man raises an eyebrow at her bold suggestion and stops within an elbow's length from her. But the second she notices him reaching out to touch her face, Sakura takes the added boost from her ingested liquor and strikes him _hard_. Her palm meeting the right side of his face with a loud _clack,_ he subsequently doubles over one of the tables. _How's that for a trick?_

"What da _fuck!_ You bitch-"

Taking the upper hand, Sakura holds him down by the head before he can attempt to get up, mildly pressing her weight into her hand to keep him from moving. "Take that back, you prick," she threatens, shifting more of her weight on him to add to the message.

"Pfft. You wretched whore-"

She muffles his drunk mouth against the table, effectively shutting him up. Looking up ahead, she notices that her actions have caused quite an uproar from his buddies, some who stare in disbelief, some who laugh noisily at their friend's unfortunate position and some who look prepared to avenge him.

From behind, Sakura feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns to find that same bartender, whose expression has now changed into one of disappointment. _Tch. Damn it._ She's been in enough bar fights to know where this is heading, so she saves him the talk and releases the man, who slumps down to the floor from somehow passing out in between.

"Ma'am, I think you know the deal. We don't want anymore trouble here," the same bartender approaches gently.

Appreciating his civility in dismissing her – unlike her admirer – Sakura just sighs. Of course, it's quite embarrassing to be given the boot, but she supposes it's well deserved. Comparing herself with the man lying unconscious on the floor over his own drool, she certainly got the better hand in the squabble. Maybe she did go overboard this time round.

"Fine," she says gruffly as she fixes her clothing. "But I can kick my own ass out."

She can feel all the waiting eyes staring down her back as she stalks out the door to the cold night. At this point, she doesn't really know what to do, considering she's just reached a low point in her mission (and life in general), but perhaps the only solution is to sleep on it. Hugging herself tighter to rid of the chilly air, she moves to step onto the street until she hears movement behind her.

"Sakura, is that you?"

As if caught red-handed, she turns around warily and sure enough, over there by the tavern entrance and leaning by the wall is someone hiding in the shadows. When he approaches closer and steps into the moonlight, Sakura slowly widens her eyes and quickly drops her hands.

 _Oh you have got to be kidding me._ Frozen with shock, she remains still even when he draws closer. It seems he's trying to get a better look to confirm that it's indeed her, but she has no need to look further once she sees those same dead and lifeless eyes.

"Do you still remember me?" he says, monotone voice still the same as ever.

Sakura scoffs. "How could I forget? You rejected me, remember? Several times, too." she answers in half-seriousness and half-humor.

As expected, Sasuke remains apathetic to her remark. _Seems like nothing has changed._

"You work for the Snake?" he asks.

Her thoughts confirmed, Sakura sighs heavily – one of her worst nightmares has just materialized right before her eyes. God, she hopes he didn't witness her small violent escapade at the bar. Pushing the thought to the back of her head, she nods her head and gestures to the alleyway up ahead.

"Follow me."

* * *

Sakura removes them from the street and leads him to the back of the tavern. The small area is secluded, empty, desolate and most importantly, private. While he takes to leaning against the fence, Sakura moves to sit herself at the steps by the door, still hugging herself at the cold and chilly air.

Finally getting a better look, the first thing she notices is his ridiculous hair. Still a dark shade of black, but spikes up in the back and frames his face in the front. It stops just above his shoulders, much like her hair. Sasuke also wears a dark ensemble to match, a black cloak draped loosely across his shoulders and reaching his knees. Dark pants are tucked into black boots and a sword peeks out dangerously at his side. Much taller than she remembers, he looks the spitting image of someone she would avoid.

Sakura admits that she had an idea of where Sasuke went after he deserted Prath. And although she never knew for certain (until now), she was aware that Orochimaru’s name was involved in the mix. Had she thought about this when she agreed to participate in the Snake’s endeavors? Not at all. The Uchiha’s name never warranted inclusion and they’ve operated under different circumstances this entire time. It took them about six years in this business to finally cross paths.

When she was younger, this is definitely _not_ how she envisioned their reunion. She once thought that it would take a miracle. That once he overcame his desire for revenge, he would realize what’s truly important. She thought _he_ would be the one to come back. She would have never guessed that it would be _her_ moving to his territory.

Unfortunately for her, the one thing that separates Sasuke from all the other lunatics is her past connection with him. He knew her when he was younger, might even remember the way she once saw him a prize. She always held him to a higher standing, fought to receive even the slightest bit of attention. Looking back now, she likes to think that she’s changed from her younger self, possibly much milder now, not quite as crazy (debatable), but definitely no longer naïve. She doubts that Sasuke has changed at all. Here is someone who used to look down on her so much. Someone who used to reject all her advances and attempts to be friendly with him and now here he stands, that same stone-cold look painted on his face. Well, if he does give her any, she certainly won’t take any of his _shit_ tonight. Why she offered herself to him on that fateful night so many years ago? She can’t recall anymore.

“So… How’d someone like you end up here?” he says, a hint of judgment and criticism lining his words.

Sakura inwardly affirms her own suspicions – _Yup. Hasn’t changed one bit._ And she cringes and ponders at the insensitive words ‘someone like you’ _._ What is that supposed to mean? Just to annoy him intentionally – goodness, she never once imagined she would do this – she shoots him a nonchalant look and casually shrugs her shoulders. “I took a horse. How else?”

His stoic façade is betrayed just by a hint of annoyance, and that’s enough for her to receive an odd sense of pleasure and satisfaction. Deciding that she got what she wanted, she decides to let up her joke and answer him somewhat seriously. “It’s a long story.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “You turned your back on Prath?”

“I suppose,” she says, deadpan.

He scoffs in that familiar, arrogant, cold and distant manner; one that screams of his ever-present superiority complex. And she hates the way the corner of his mouth tilt upward just slightly for a small smirk. “Pfft. As if. I don’t believe it.”

Now it’s her turn to raise an eyebrow at him. Gesturing to all of her miserable self and their shoddy surroundings, she attempts to make the idea more glaringly clear. “Umm, I’m right here, aren’t I? Right in front of you? What, you think I’m not strong enough to leave?”

“Che. Last I remember, you weren’t exactly the rebellious kind,” he jeers, serving only to raise the tension between them. She remembers now that he had a knack for doing this.

Brushing off his attempt to provoke her, Sakura retaliates back. “Hmm. Funny how you talk as if you actually knew me, because last _I_ remember…” And she deadpans her expression here. “…You never once gave me the light of day.”

Sasuke narrows his eyes at her. “So what is it then? Did you kill someone? Did you break the rules? Or are you just bar-hopping around, looking to pick fights-”

“So how about _you_ , Sasuke? What have you been up to?” she fires the question right back at him, cutting him off, voice raised, and ire building up. Who does he think he is? Not even ten minutes into their meeting, he’s already irked her to the brink. If he wants to jab at all her sore spots, then he forgets that she’s just as prepared to play the game herself. “Sasuke, are _you_ still hell-bent on revenge? Did you gain the power you sought? Have you finally avenged your _precious_ family? Are you still _so_ intent on killing others just so they can taste your damn hatred-”

Within a flash, he’s standing beside her, the tip of his sword pointed precariously at her neck. Sakura, effectively silenced, swallows hard and narrow her eyes in disbelief.

“What the  _fuck_  is wrong with you?” Sasuke seethes, the heavy threat felt in his voice.

Risking a bold move – she’s certain that Sasuke would not hesitate to kill her – Sakura gently palms the flat edge of his sword and mildly pushes it to the side. When he doesn’t retaliate, Sakura sighs inaudibly and re-entertains the idea that maybe Sasuke _has_ changed slightly.

Slowly rising to her feet, she dusts herself off and paces a reasonable and cautious distance from him. _Tch. You point a sword at me and I’m the asshole?_ Taking a few minutes to recover from that minor lapse, Sakura shifts to him, maintaining neutral tone in her voice.

“Alright, fine. I admit. I got ahead of myself back there, but come on, you refuse to give me any sort of credit, even as I’m standing here right in front of you. Kind of a jackass move if you ask me,” she starts, to which he gives her that same look of skepticism. Taking a deep breath, she continues, but this time her tone less forgiving and more accusing. “…You know, I thought you’d have grown out of it, but you _still_ have that same _shit_ attitude as before. I mean, I might have tolerated it in the past, but don’t count on me putting up with it now. I’m not stupid. Also…” Sakura breathes for just a moment, taking the chance to revel and rejoice in this statement because it’s as if a heavy weight has just been lifted off her chest. “…Sasuke, I’m not the same person as I was. I don’t love you anymore.”

He stops, seemingly to fully absorb her words and hopefully, realize that things really have changed. Letting the fact sink in for both him and herself, Sakura rests against a nearby wall and slumps down to the ground again. Exhaling deeply, she stretches her legs out in front of her and looks up to the starry sky. She steals a quick glance at Sasuke, who remains motionless and expressionless as he was before. Considering his silence, Sakura continues filling their conversation, but this time, with less spite.

“Sasuke, do you remember the _first_ time you called me annoying?” she asks rather spontaneously. As expected, he doesn’t respond. _Of course he doesn’t remember. He didn’t remember the first time I asked either._ Not bothering to rehash the moment as she did before, Sakura takes his silence as a cue to continue. “I’ve changed since then. And yeah, I’ve become an asshole in the process, but at least I’m no longer in Prath. And as much as you hate to believe it, that’s the one thing we have in common here.”

At this point, she expects him to leave. Walk away. There’s no reason he would want to stay. Sasuke barely listens to people, let alone someone who just insulted him. Even after six years, she’s probably _still_ not worth his time. “Anyway, since you’re still here… You’re curious how I got here? Here’s the short version: I just stopped giving a damn. That’s it. Up to you how you want to take it. Not like it matters anyway.” _Or in other words, it’s not like_ I _matter anyway._

“Sakura,” he finally speaks up, catching her full attention. “…your pass, I can’t give it.”

Legitimately confused, Sakura furrows her eyebrows at him. “My what?”

“Your identification pass. I can’t give it to you. At least, not at this moment.”

She blinks a couple of times. It seems that during all of that not-so-gentle banter, she had forgotten her original purpose of being here. And now that she _does_ remember, she can’t help but be slightly pissed. Sighing, she hunches forward and props her elbows against her knees, directing him a look of uncertainty. “When can you give it then? No pressure, but my deadline is fast approaching.”

“I can give it to you tomorrow. At dawn. When no one is watching.”

Sakura scrunches up her face in confusion. “Sasuke, if you’re concerned about privacy, I’m more than willing to get out of here-”

“That’s… not the point. Look, if you really want to succeed this mission, it’s better if you just do as I say,” he says, inciting an offended look from her. “…Sakura, when the last time you’ve been to Prath?”

“Six years,” she answers almost robotically.

“Then you’re obviously outdated,” he retaliates, but she senses no underlying spite in his tone this time round. “The city… it’s not like before. It looks a lot different now ever since the Fox terrorized it. Underwent countless renovations, changes, repairs… I take it you’re conscientious with your plans, so unless you’re planning to risk it and head over there with as little thought as possible, then I’m not stopping you.”

She stares blankly at him, still confused. “Can you clarify what you mean by that?”

Sasuke shakes his head. “You’ll see when you get there.”

Clearly meant to be left in the dark, Sakura doesn’t budge the issue any further. She supposes that she’ll get a better understanding once she arrives. Still though, nothing should surprise her at this point. Grudgingly, she forces herself to be agreeable with him and holds her tongue for sharp words. “…Fine, I’ll bite. Where do I meet you tomorrow?”

“The West entrance. By the bridge. You know the place?”

She contemplates only for a short second. “I do.”

He gets up to leave, obviously with no farewell or goodbye whatsoever, and Sakura doesn’t bother to watch him as he goes. But as he moves to turn the corner, she hears his voice calling her out one last time.

“Before I go, Sakura, I’m curious. Naruto… Does he know you’re here?” he asks plainly.

Sakura regards him, dead and tired eyes on her face, and shakes her head. “No.”

Shifting his gaze forward, he mutters his usual ‘hn’, before moving once again. This time, she watches until he disappears, eyes locked on the swish of his cape until he is entirely out of sight.

From what she gathers up until this point, Orochimaru sent two convicts from Prath to wreck havoc back in this corrupted city. Was he assuming that she would have more drive? More motivation? More _incentive_? In utter disappointment, Sakura scoffs. She thought he knew her better: Sakura’s not one to bask in retribution and revenge. He’s got the wrong person in mind.

She rolls her eyes. _What an idiot._

* * *

When the sun is barely even rising the next day, Sakura is already standing at the bridge. She woke up with mild headache this morning, but she's experienced a lot worse. As per routine, she downed a couple glasses of water, had a cup of tea and much of her hangover was long gone. And now as the cold and chilly air settles around her, Sakura leans against the cool railing and rubs her arms up and down, waiting impatiently for Sasuke's arrival – she's just recently discovered that her early arrival will do nothing to hasten this part of the journey.

When she finally sees him in the distance – walking slower than she would prefer – she finally straightens up from her uncomfortable stance and crosses her arms. He looks a lot more pleasant – as pleasant as Sasuke Uchiha can get – and more importantly, much less hostile than yesterday.

"Morning," she greets, omitting the 'good' out of the expression. He simply nods back in his own passive, recluse, and personalized way of greeting. Even with this, their encounter is already turning out much better than the first. Maybe the two of them can just silently forgo the events of last night and start somewhat fresh.

Out of his coat, she watches as he pulls out a handful of documents and extends them to her. "Here. Mira Sato. Your new name. A practicing medic from an extended rural village, intending to train under a mentor at one of the Prath clinics," he explains dully.

Sakura flips and skims through each of the documents, slightly taken aback by the enormous amount of content in her hands. Legal passport with personal information, formal invitation for her apprenticeship in Prath, a year's contract signed for her stay, a guard's pass, letter of approval from the council, assigned living quarters…

She looks back up at Sasuke, aghast, confused and searching for answers. Why so much content? Why so much effort in retrieving something that's _real_? While she admits that her knowledge of the city _is_ a bit outdated, she knows well enough that these inked seals were _not_ made through forgery. This is something she can confirm from personal experience. "Sasuke, what is this? This looks like a ton of junk. And by the looks of it, this is a _real_ person."

Sasuke casually shrugs his shoulders and dismisses her concern with a void and vacant stare. "I was instructed to make it as real as possible. Besides, you will need all of that to get inside Prath's borders."

Sakura looks down at the stack in her hands once again, deranged and confused thoughts still swirling in her head. "…Is that so? Then, if I might ask… where is this poor girl? What did you do to her?"

He shakes his head. "That's none of your concern. She was taken care of."

Clutching on to the documents, Sakura narrows her eyes at Sasuke accusingly, wondering what 'taken care of' really means, but seeing as Sasuke's probably too much of a hard-ass to admit what he's done, she lets it go. From behind, Sakura pulls out a clean sack and starts arranging the files inside. "By the way, if you're expecting me to attend this girl's internship to keep up this façade, don't count on it. I don't do medicinal practice."

Sasuke raises a quizzical eyebrow at her warning, but not one to be too concerned with trivial things, he shrugs it off with indifference that she doesn't even notice. "...I don't think that will be a problem."

"Good," she says, glancing up at him again and quickly changing the subject. "Now, with regards to your role in this mission, I want to know how often you're planning on showing up."

He sighs inaudibly, shifting his gaze to the side and onto the waters below in thought. "… weekly perhaps? I'm not sure if Orochimaru mentioned this, but I have another mission of my own to complete."

Sakura scoffs lightly. "And what is that? Planning to abduct someone too?"

He shakes his head, gaze still lingering out in the distance. "That's… none of your concern."

 _Seems like nothing is of my concern._ Sakura sighs, concluding that this is as far as Sasuke will ever open up. It's odd though. Last night, he was cruel, demeaning and threatened her with his sword. This morning, on the other hand, he's completely stringent and strict business with her. She supposes she should be thankful.

Holding up her sack, she nods her head at him in genuine gratitude. "…Well then. Thanks for this. If I wasn't ready before, I suppose I'm ready now. I guess all I really need to do is look like her, am I right?" she jokes, laughing at her own basic quip. When she catches the stoic expression on his face though, her laughter dies down to an awkward and lonely chuckle. Clearly, Sasuke really refuses to find no humor in anything. _Apparently still an inappropriate time to joke._

She clears her throat, recovering from the awkward encounter, and opens her mouth to continue when he cuts her off.

"Sakura, I'm not finished."

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Huh?"

He eyes her up and down, seemingly for no reason other than to make her more suspicious, and unexpectedly closes his eyes. His face scrunches up in concentration, lines appearing in the sides of his eyes and Sakura leans in closer, curious and confused at the same time. A momentary silence stretches between them, each passing second leaving Sakura thinking that this is just a ruse.

"Sasuke, what are you-"

He opens his eyes again.

And when she finally sees it, her words are cut off by a sharp gasp and she averts her gaze so fast she might get whiplash. What the heck is he thinking? She has little idea what to do, but she does know the number one rule to counter it: don't look. How could she be so stupid? Or in other words, how could _he_ be so stupid?

"Are you trying to _fucking_ kill me, Uchiha? Really? Are we doing this _again_?" she hisses sharply, backing away slowly and lifting a hand to shield her face.

"Calm down. I'm not going to use it like _that_."

"Than what could you possibly need your _Sharingan_ for?" she demands crossly, her thoughts a weird concoction of anger, confusion, shock and oddly enough, fear.

She can hear him sighing from the other side. "I'm going to _change_ you."

" _Change_ me?"

"Yes. Change you. It's as you said: All you need to do now is _look_ like her," he explains slowly, as if talking to a child.

This is when she pauses to think. Clears her mind for just a second and rethinks about what she said. _Look like her? Can he really do that?_

A full minute of silence passes as she contemplates between do and don't. And while she her rational mind is telling her _don't_ , Sakura doesn't know where to draw the line. She never does. At this point, she's crossed so many lines and taken enough risks that her life is but a wonder. So in this situation, where she's given the choice between safety and risk, she knows that she tends to lean towards the latter.

At the end of the day, she realizes that she actually doesn't have much of a choice; just as her heart continually seeks for _more_ , she eventually gives in to her curiosity.

She starts by lowering her hand. And then looking straight at his middle, still avoiding the red hues of those deceitful eyes.

"Sakura, I'm not-"

"I know! This isn't easy. Just… hold on." she retorts. Taking a deep breath, she shifts her gaze back to his eyes in one fluid motion, mentally prepared for any unusual illusions or hallucinations, but also physically unprepared for countering them.

Just as she remembers, his eyes have turned a blood red, a simple circular pattern drawn there in black. It's not as intimidating as she recalls – kind of a letdown, to be honest – but she's not one to underestimate its power. The Sharingan is known to throw people's minds off balance, thus giving the user the ultimate advantage. Fortunately, nothing _seems_ to have happened. Nothing hurts. Nothing is different. Nothing's changed (yet) and she exhales softly in relief.

"…Alright, Uchiha. I'm looking. But I swear, if you do something-"

"Damn it, Sakura. Just shut up for a sec." He takes a step closer, and while her instincts tell her to back away, she fights against it. "All you have to do is look."

She does as he says, focusing entirely on his deep reds with complete vulnerability. Nothing happens within the first few moments and just when she's starting to regret this altogether, she starts to feel the lightheadedness sinking in. She thinks it's normal at first, possibly the morning's tiredness or exhaustion catching up to her, but then the weakness spreads. It starts at her face, then to her chest, radiating to her arms and slowly enveloping her lower limbs. _What the…_

She can't pinpoint when it happens, but soon enough, it becomes increasingly difficult to stay focused on his unchanging eyes. She can't move, can't lift her arms and certainly can't fight it. And of all sudden, she's forced to stop thinking altogether. At one point, she feels a hand on her shoulder, straightening her position and steadying her.

"Sakura, you're swaying…" She knows this voice belongs to Sasuke, but the sound comes out hazy, like an echo of some sort. And she realizes that her hearing has been numbed as well.

It's hard to speak, hard to maintain focus, and it's damn near impossible to ask him what's going on and how far she needs to go with this. And when her vision starts blurring, all of a sudden, she's seeing two of him. She supposes this is where she should draw the line, but how can she? Her legs feel like jelly, about to crumble under her crushing weight because how can she feel so _heavy_ and _light_ at the same time?

Just when she's feeling the sensation that she's about to faint, she attempts to use the last of her dissipating consciousness to turn away, but that's when she feels it. _Pain_.

From the outside, she hears a faint whisper, "Sakura, this will hurt."

And then it does. Her body shudders and revolts against it, and he says the words just in time when there's a sudden stabbing pain in her middle, as if she's just been gutted through and through. She's no longer looking at him now, the sensations causing her to double over her stomach and drop to her knees at the sudden registration of _hurt_. The pain successfully emanates and branches out to all her limbs, missing no inch of skin or bone until it makes its way to her head where it hurts the most.

It comes as an intense migraine, and she lets out an earsplitting scream because she's never felt anything like this before. It's like an assault coming from the inside, with her body having no precedent or preparation to counter such pain, leaving her completely stunned and invaded. It's disturbing, it's trespassing and she's never felt so intruded before.

And the sensation is so odd, because she swears that she's _feeling_ the change. Even as the numbness slowly ebbs away, she feels her face twitching and contorting in awkward ways, and her mind has to second-guess itself when she thinks that her legs and arms are compressing, shifting and changing ever so slightly.

Her vision is cloudy, hearing is fuzzy, but it feels like forever has passed before the pain actually starts to subside. Registering that she's on her knees, she tries to make sense of the stony floors, but fails to. Fortunately, the pain only lasts for a second more and just like that, a wave of numbness and reliefs overcomes her.

Just as she's about to collapse to the side, she feels a hand on one of her shoulders, keeping her steady once again. She knows it's Sasuke and that he's kneeled down to her level.

"Sakura, it's done. You can get up," he informs inconsiderably.

But can she get up? Probably not the best idea, but that doesn't mean she won't try. Fighting the surge of weakness, she blindly locates the railing bars beside her and uses it to drag herself onto her knees and then on to her feet. Once she's up, she leans her entire upper body over the rail in a desperate attempt catch her breath.

When she catches Sasuke's eyes again, they're no longer red, having transitioned back to its onyx black in between the transition. She gives him a confused look when he tips his head in the direction of the water, but when she follows his eyes and shifts her gaze to the slow waters below the bridge, the sight is enough to wake her up.

"Agh!" And she has to looks away immediately. All skepticism is erased when she takes a second look, confirming that indeed, her hair is no longer pink, eyes are no longer green and there is someone else in that reflection looking back at her. "Um…" she says unintelligently, still dumbstruck by it all.

Sasuke, still stoic and apathetic as ever, resumes dryly. "Sakura, you'll feel stiff for the rest of the day. Other than that, it will take some time getting used to. "

She can't help but look at her reflection again, still caught off guard by own face. Sakura swallows hard, finding that words suddenly hard to find and piece together. "Uhh… okay."

He nods his head at her, either ignoring or remaining oblivious to her shocked stature. "I'll find you in a week's time. Other than that, good luck." And with that, he starts walking in the same direction he came.

With her exhaustion, it's a struggle to simply speak, so she has to muster everything she has just to shout out the simple word, "Wait!"

He pauses mid-step, and just turns his head over his shoulder coolly. She's still gasping and breathing heavily, but she manages to speak in between loose breaths. "Sasuke, hey umm… about us, are we… We're good, right?"

There's an intense pause that follows afterwards as Sakura merely awaits his answer. And when he nods his head to affirm their relationship and turns back around, she feels an unexpected wave of relief. Whether or not Sasuke still she thinks she's annoying, it does not matter; she feels a burden lifted soaring off her mind anyway. Because after so many years of constant rejection and receiving the cold shoulder, maybe – _just_ maybe – she and Sasuke are finally on decent terms. Not a goal she set herself to accomplish, but she likes to think that it's one less person she has to worry about.

She watches him leave as long as she can and when he's completely gone, she slumps back down against the railing in utter exhaustion. Sitting at the foot of the bridge, she reaches a hand up to admire her new features. Fingering through her new brown locks, she observes her smaller and frailer stature – it will definitely take some time getting used to her new skin. Of course, nothing is stopping the nausea stirring in the pit of her stomach at the novelty of her countenance, but she shifts her gaze northward anyway, in the direction of Prath.

A part of her is wondering if this whole charade has already gone too far, but whether or not she thinks it has, she supposes there's no going back now.


	3. Pale Blonde

The City of Prath. Unpleasant Reintroductions. Backlash.

* * *

Sakura could remember the Prath gates. The combination of wood and stone, scalable walls (if one tried hard enough), and an entrance archway _just_ tall enough for easing through horse-led carriages.

But standing here, six years later, it seems her memory is for naught.

The gates have either been demolished or integrated into this new barricade that they call a ‘border’, though it’s a protective blockade more than anything. The walls stand as high as lookout points, connected by towers with waiting guards and heavy artillery, and what was once a small archway entrance is now replaced by a large wooden drawbridge, hoisted to the walls by sturdy chains.

The transition from the once-pitiful and measly fence to this proud fortification is boastable, and even Sakura has to stand in awe of it. It’s not even the entrance alone – she observes that this fortress extends well past as her eyes can see, encircling and encroaching the entire city into one large district.

To say that Prath has _improved_ their defenses is a large understatement. Sasuke was putting it lightly because all she can think of as she wraps her head around these new fortifications is ‘ _Well, shit’._

After recovering from the marvel that is Prath’s new stronghold, she recalls her initial objectives and ventures forth.

* * *

The entry process is long and arduous, to say the least. After travelling on horseback for nearly two days, she arrived here at early dawn – just in time for the start of her supposed ‘internship’ – but by the time she was verified ‘clear’ to step foot on the other side of the gate, it’s already the afternoon.

The guards were uptight and rigid, adhering to strict rules and step-by-step processes like operated contraptions. She was questioned, interrogated and forced to explain the entirety of her document portfolio to a guard who demanded every detail. That was easy enough, but then she underwent a _physical_ assessment. If the guards were suspicious enough of her dagger (what is an intern medic doing with a dagger?), one can imagine their reaction to her collection of home-brewed poisons. Thankfully, she was able to pass it off as some sort of special cultural herbal medicine used in her home country.

Once she was finished with that, she was told to _wait_. They needed validation, approval, papers signed and so much more than she will ever care for. And at the end, just when she thinks it’s over, they had her review, memorize and recite a visitor’s _oath_ where she needed to ‘vow’ her devotion to comply by Prath’s rules and regulations. Just to appease them, she delivered the pointless, scripted words.

Finally free to roam now, she glances from right to left. The first thing she notices is the sky. It’s uncharacteristic of Prath to have such a cloudy day – the atmosphere is so dreary right now – but with her arrival, she supposes that today is unlike any other. Gazing at the foregrounds before he, it’s safe to say that Prath is just as unrecognizable on the inside than it is on the outside.

She doesn’t remember these tall merchant buildings, and she surely doesn’t remember this many people living in this city. Even when the sky is so bleak, the place is so much _busier_ now. Much more bustling. And – she grudgingly admits – certainly more aesthetically pleasing (though she supposes that’s how the city is hiding the corrupted, foul stench lingering underneath). Although her mind wants to take a gander at what’s here and there, she stops herself before getting too far. There are far too many distractions here, and she’ll receive her comeuppance from Orochimaru if she spends too much time dawdling.

Though… it’s not as easy as she thinks. This city is her birthplace. Her origin. It was once a place she called _home_. And she can’t suppress the part of herself that’s eager to scope out the new city. To see what other changes have been made. And to discover how life has been for the people she once knew.

Sakura shakes her head. _No_. She refuses to do any ‘checkups’ on past and previous friends – she might revolt at the sight of them.

Nonetheless, she allows herself to gives in just slightly. Looking every bit like a tourist, her feet start moving, taking a familiar path down the road. Despite the novelty of it all, Sakura knows where she wants to go. And she’s thankful that the streets are getting more familiar as she traverses further. Roads get narrower, streets become quieter… it seems the more inward she travels, the more she gets a nostalgic taste of ‘old’ Prath.

Taking a shortcut through a claustrophobic alleyway, she finally finds herself in familiar grounds. It isn’t long before she’s getting closer and with each step, her heart thumps loud in her ears and thoughts run wild of what could be and what has been.

When she finally reaches her destination, she can’t help but be disappointed.

The dingy apartment building that was once her home – it’s been demolished. Of course. Replaced by some eat-in restaurant. She’s confident that this is the place – she knows because her home was always just two blocks north of the loud and bustling marketplace, which, to this day, remains the same.

Nonetheless, standing here reels back snapshots of largely unvisited memories of her backstory (Karin would cringe if she found out that Sakura had done this) and she just thinks to herself ‘ _Why should I even care?’_ And the answer is that she shouldn’t. There’s no one here left. Her Mother moved out not too long after her exile. She wasn’t in the best condition the last time Sakura saw her, and it’s not like they’re in the best of terms right now. Her Father, on the other hand…

A frown settles on her face. She doesn’t hold as much resentment for him as she does with others. And for the first time in these six years, she explores the possibility of a visit. Although she feels indifferent about the decision, she realizes that she might owe him this much. He has, after all, has been there for her the majority of her life.

Sighing tiredly, her morality wins her over this time round and she treks another familiar path towards a shop that she hopes was not destroyed in Prath’s rebuilding process. Thankfully, when she gets there, the structure still stands. Again, the flower shop incites such a nostalgic feeling, one that she can’t decipher as joyful or dreadful. But despite this mixed response, she walks in anyway, the floral scents assaulting her senses and the bell atop the door dinging brightly and optimistically above her as she enters the shop.

Thinking more clearly now, she remembers now that her Father did pass away around this time, completely justifying the appropriateness and purpose of this visit.

“I’ll be right there in just a second to help you out!” a female voice from the back room emerges.

Sakura shifts her weight on her other foot while she waits, taking to admiring the selection of carnations and peonies of various colors displayed by the front counter. Considering the upcoming winter season, the shop still carries quite an impressive assortment.

Out from the backdoor, a blonde woman turns up, tying the back ties of her purple apron behind her as she comes to stand the front desk. At first glance, Sakura has to do a double take. No way. Is that…?

“Ugh, sorry for the wait. I was organizing pots and bins in the back. You know how it is,” the blonde woman explains, appearing bothered as she gathers her hair up into a high ponytail. This sight, unfortunately, incites even more nostalgia. “…now that that’s over with. My name is Ino. Can I help you with anything, ma’am?”

Sakura blanches. By instinct, she’s about to make a run for it in panic, escape this place before anyone can realize her identity, but then she remembers her new skin. _Right. She won’t recognize me._ Sakura hasn’t seen her reflection in a while, so it’s actually been quite easy to adapt to this new body. But still, the downside is that she also hasn’t got used to _remembering_ her new countenance either.

She stays in place, this new identity doing a good job of calming her nerves and reminding her that pink-haired Sakura remains out of sight. Now able to appreciate Ino more clearly, Sakura eyes her up and down. She’s gotten curvy now, her hair now reaching her knees and the counters of her face have aged a bit. Despite this, Sakura would still regard Ino among this city’s most pretty girls. She can still remember their younger days, when they would compete over the pettiest things, and if Sakura hadn’t left, she wouldn’t be surprised if that ruse continued.

_Damn. I still remember living in your shadow._

Realizing the silence has gone on for longer than appropriate, Sakura snaps back to her original intention. “Umm… I’m looking for lilies? White lilies, if you have them.”

Ino gasps lightly, a hand reaching up to cover her mouth as her expression turns somewhat saddened. “White lilies? Oh no. Don’t tell you’re going to…” she trails off.

It seems like Ino is just nosy as before. Having alike thoughts in her head, Sakura just nods her head. But to alleviate the darkening mood somehow, Sakura puts on a small smile. “Don’t worry about it. He died a long time ago.”

Ino gives her an empathetic smile and nods at the reassurance. “...Alright, sweetie. Just wait here a second, I’ll wrap some up for you. How does a dozen sound?”

Sakura nods her head. “That’ll be fine.”

As Ino disappears into the back room again, Sakura leans against the counter and glances around. As she scans the room, her eyes find the bright and obvious sign written on a hanging post along the front door. _Yamanaka Flowers_. She rolls her eyes – how did she miss that when she entered the shop?

If she remembers clearly, Ino’s parents were the owners of this shop. But when they were young, Ino never mentioned planning to take over the family business. Sakura just always assumed that the blonde would have either joined the Prath’s corps system or have become an infamous socialite if the former plan had failed. Then again, no one would have guessed where Sakura had ended up, right?

Hearing footsteps, Ino appears again, this time holding a bundle of white lilies nestled in her right arm and some light brown wrapping in the other. Sakura isn’t completely engrossed in watching Ino arranging and blanketing the flowers together, but when she notices a shiny little thing encircled around Ino left ring finger, Sakura can’t look away.

As the blonde ties the ends with a small white ribbon sash, Sakura continues to observe with interest. “…Hey, I don’t mean to pry, but… are you married?” Sakura asks, quickly recognizing how out of character it is for her to meddle in such affairs.

Ino’s mouth quirks up to a bright grin as she lifts her left hand, flashing the small gem resting on her finger. “Oh you noticed my wedding band, huh? Yes. I am married. And happily so. What about yourself?”

Mirroring her, Sakura flashes her left hand, gesturing to a ring finger empty of any jewelry. “Nope. Not me. And to be honest, probably not _ever_.”

Ino waves a hand in her direction, as if to dismiss her statement, and puts on a defiant expression. “Oh pish posh. Have some heart, would you? You’ll get there. I sincerely believe that love will find us in one way or another.”

Sakura suppresses her urge to chuckle, because the idea the product of naïve and ridiculous thinking. She’s tempted to retort, but holds her tongue.

“Seriously though. You just have to be open-minded. God knows I was. My husband today is nothing like the husband I’d envisioned ten years ago.”

Sakura ponders in retrospect, now curious about the identity of this mystery husband. But looking back, she remembers only two potential candidates. Two of Ino’s childhood friends, both of which she trusted with her life, yet disgusted her to no end. _Chouji maybe? Nah. Ino swears by her dieting regimens too much. So maybe… Shikamaru? The only way that would happen is if he grew to accept her troublesome tendencies._

“So… still eligible, are you? Would you like me to set you up? I mean, you’re not half-bad. I think I can contact a few people,” Ino offers suddenly, eyebrows quirked in a suggestive manner.

Sakura deadpans, not knowing whether to shudder or laugh at the proposition. “Eheh… no thanks. You see, I’m a traveler of some sort. My lifestyle isn’t suitable for marriage.”

Ino remains defiant. “Oh that’s rubbish. My husband’s a traveler too, you know. An artist, actually. Even though we spend half the year apart, we’re still married. And neither of us have regretted the decision one bit.” At the continuous talk of her husband, Ino begins to develop a faraway expression on her face, suggesting heavily that her spouse is currently not here. Meanwhile, Sakura picks up on a specific word. _Artist_. Her memory might be a tad blurry, but in no form does she remember Chouji or Shikamaru ever participating in anything remotely artsy. “Ah, I miss him so much. Being sheltered for most of my life, it gets dull here pretty fast. Sometimes, I wish I was like you. It must be fun seeing the world, hopping from town to town, meeting plenty of new faces…”

Sakura shakes her head. “Oh believe me. It’s not as romanticized or magical as it seems. Having a stable home and family… it’s better than having none. More often than not, I always find myself alone with nowhere to go and no one to see. And to be frank with you, the solitude can be quite painful,” she explains, surprised by her own honesty.

Ino smiles at her insightful words and nods her head. “Well then. I suppose life gives us different kinds of pains.”

For once, Sakura actually agrees with her. “Indeed.” Out of her pouch, she pulls out a few silver coins and plops them onto the counter. Accepting the bouquet of lilies in return, Sakura shoots Ino one last look of surprising encouragement. “Take care, Ino. It’s a tough world out there. I hope you reunite with your husband soon.”

“Thanks for shopping! Come back soon.”

And with that, Sakura heads for the door, that same bell ringing brightly above her as walks out. Exiting the shop leaves behind a bizarre feeling of sentiment, wistfulness and yearning that she does not understand and will probably ignore. Perhaps it’s the oddity of it all: finding familiar faces and realizing how much they’ve grown and moved on with their lives. Regarding Ino, now that’s she’s happily married and owning a business, it seems she has avoided a pitfall and made something of herself.

Sakura wonders the same for her own life. Right now, if Ino had known that the brown-haired girl in her shop was actually a friend she once knew, would she think the same?

Sakura scoffs. Probably not.

* * *

She doesn’t know how long she’s been here. Maybe one hour? Maybe two? She doesn’t know what it is about sitting in cemeteries that somehow stretches and distorts time, but it always does. For one, the sky is such a dreary gray. It’s been like this ever since she’s arrived. However, as a chilly wind ghosts past her, she thinks that maybe it’s time to find shelter.

Running her hand over the inscripted slab, she takes one final look at her Father’s gravestone and reads the words written there. ‘The memory of the just are blessed’. _Indeed they are_. Oddly enough, this is the closest she’s been to family in six long years and she’s standing at a corpse’s grave. It really is terrible and pitiful how life can take a dark turn so quickly. Sakura’s glad he died before witnessing her life crumbling into a disaster. That he knew her before she got involved in trouble. Right before her deportation.

_Tch, What a lousy time._

She doesn’t cry either. Instead, she gets up, shoves her hands in her coat and leaves with a determination to find rest at another seedy hotel situated near the Hyuuga residence so she can start her plotting. However, just as she’s about to exit the pillared entrance of the gloomy park, she slows her pace when her eyes latch on to someone there.

Before when she encountered Ino, her mind merely scrambled in panic before she collected herself once again. But this time is completely different. She redirects her gaze forward and bears her head down, as nothing can stop the overwhelming feeling of pure _danger_ coursing through her veins. Thoughts running amok, she wills her feet to move faster as the words ‘Get out now’ swells her mind.

When she knows she’s nearing him – even as he’s leaning against the post so casually with his nose in a book (who reads at a cemetery?) – she refuses to let up. That is, until he makes a move. Considering there’s no one else here, he notices her fairly easily. And she swears that her heart skips a few beats when she hears him shutting his book closed.

As much as she wants to rewind time and take another detour out of here, she knows it’s pointless to ignore him, especially now that the masked gray-haired individual has pushed himself off the post and moved to stand in the middle of the pavement right where she’s about to pass. Learning from past experiences, she slows down. After all, running away only makes her look more suspicious. And coming to stand right in front of the infamous Kakashi Hatake, it would be best if she avoided any red flags.

Finally looking up, she watches as he tips his head at her and gives her his signature casual eye-smile. She stops within a reasonable and safe distance from him.

“Good afternoon, madam,” he greets, adding a loose wave in her direction.

Deciding last-minute that she’ll approach this conversation with a friendly demeanor, Sakura nods her head at him. “Good afternoon, sir. Though…” Sakura lifts a hand to gesture to the location behind her. “…being in a place like this, I doubt anything can be regarded as ‘good’.”

He seems to nod his head in agreement. “Ah, that’s correct.” An awkward silence follows after, and despite Kakashi’s cordial disposition, Sakura still feels tense around him. She just can’t trust him. Can’t tell if that eye-smile is fabricated or genuine. And it’s not just because of his feared and reputable traits, but maybe it’s the way he converses as if there’s so much more underneath. Cutting the silence, he clears his throat. “…My name is Kakashi and I must say, as a regular visitor here, I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Might I have your name?”

Risking a blunder, Sakura almost forgets (again) her new countenance. “I’m Mira.”

“Have you come here recently?” he continues.

“Just today, actually. I accepted a medical internship here in Prath,” she keeps up, not understanding how she could be labeled suspicious at this point in time. She hasn’t even done anything remotely terrible (yet). How does being a newcomer and stranger automatically signal alarms of terror?

Kakashi continues to look at her inquisitively and she continues to _hate_ it. “Interesting. Well, I work under Tsunade, which as you should know, is the current the council leader. So if you ever need assistance with getting around, finding people… you can probably find me there.” And he finishes his proposition with another one of his nerve-wracking eye-smiles.

Inwardly, she’s still suspicious of him. She doesn’t know whether his suggestion is dangerous or perhaps even _perverted_ , but she has no plans of taking up his offer. So outwardly, she feigns a small smile of gratuity. “That’s kind of you. Thanks.”

Again, he directs that awful eye-smile at her again before shifting his gaze behind her shoulder, towards the graveyard up ahead. “Well. Nice meeting you, Mira, but I must get going. I, too, have ghosts of my own to visit. Besides, I have a feeling that we will run into each other again.” With a final wave, he brushes gingerly past her with nary a backward glance, leaving her utterly perplexed, wary, scared and completely stumped.

What was he searching for? What information did he want? It couldn’t have been nothing, right? He’s sworn as one of this continent’s most intelligent enemies. And for him to leave the conversation with a simple invitation for help is...

Sakura stops her train of thought and shakes her head. She’s overthinking this. Perhaps he _was_ just extending a friendly welcome. _Or_ perhaps, after days of long travel and little rest, she just needs some sleep.

* * *

_Day 1_

Life as a bounty hunter is not as glamorous as it seems. Or at least, not in Sakura’s case. Out there, people tell stories of thrilling break-ins and blood-tingling chases all fearless in nature, but Sakura prefers to take a calculative approach. She’s careful. She’s finicky. And she’s particular. Always one to fuss about details, she likes to strategize and strive for quiet efficiency over bold and brash actions. This is probably why she works best alone.

On the first day, she needs a floor plan of the Hyuuga residence. The entire compound is gated with guards standing at every opening and while she does consider simply sneaking inside, she doubts it’s a rational decision. And so, that night, Sakura picks out one of the maids with alike features and waits until her shift is over. As soon as she’s out of the gates, Sakura moves, stalking and following the worker to her home in a close area of town. Again, the task is not very glamorous or exciting, but she does it anyway. Right now, the need to gain access inside that compound overrides anything else.

Sakura follows the girl until she enters her apartment. Counting for up to five minutes, she allows her target to settle in while she retrieves two specific tools out of her pocket. Noticing the buildup of rust, Sakura runs a fingernail over one of the dusty metals to smooth it out. She also slips her hands into a pair of black gloves and reaches up to tighten her ponytail, deeming herself ready for the first break-in of this mission.

When the wait is over, Sakura bends over the apartment door and arranges her lock pick in appropriate fashion. It requires a few precise twists, turns and proper angling, but eventually she hears that telltale click of success. She smiles. Slipping into the small apartment complex, she quietly shuts the door behind her and notes quickly that the girl has disappeared behind the attached bedroom on the right. She avoids the candlelight and hides in the darkness, prepping a piece of cloth by dousing it chloroform and ether and remembering to hold her breath.

And when the girl finally exits her bedroom, Sakura stalks from behind and wraps an arm around her, firmly holding the girl’s mouth and nose in her hand. This method also effectively reduces her screams to mere muffles, but Sakura is fully aware of how distasteful it is. The inhalation of the anesthetic does a good job of hastening unconsciousness and within seconds, the girl becomes deadweight as Sakura gently eases her to the ground.

Thistechnique isn’t exactly unheard of, to be honest. It’s used in many medical facilities. However, using it for this purpose is beyond reprehensible. Obviously, she doesn’t want to kill the girl – no reason to raise suspicion here or incite an investigation – but she can’t leave the girl with any trace of harm either.

After ensuring that the Hyuuga maid is indeed knocked out, Sakura hauls her over her shoulder and plops her onto her bed, even making the effort to drape the covers over her. This way, when she wakes up, she’ll likely assume that nothing has happened.

Making a quiet dash over to the dresser, Sakura fishes out one of the maid uniforms and stuffs it into her bag. Atop the dresser, she also steals the guard’s pass that will guarantee her entrance into the compound. _Finally_.

Only taking what she needs, she abandons the apartment, even having the courtesy to blow out the candle and shut the door behind her before she leaves. Because as far as bounty hunters go, Sakura isn’t cruelest one.

* * *

_Day 2_

She dons the uniform, wears it in like-fashion as the others and when she flashes the maid’s pass to the guards, she enters the Hyuuga residence with ease. _Restricted compound, my ass._

Unfortunately, she finds out quickly enough that Hinata has left to accompany her Father to a council meeting, which means Sakura cannot trace her. It’s not a problem, really. There are other things to do. Instead of performing housekeeping – as she should – she wanders around the compound instead, drawing mental maps of the different houses and schedules of the prided clan. Breakfast is strictly scheduled for 8am, lunch at half past 12, and dinner at 6pm. Aside from that, members of the clan have their own rigid study or training slots for approximately two hours.

Despite the prestige of the family name, Sakura pities the members. The schedules are simply too stringent and rigorous for her liking.

Curious about the training space, she walks to the northern edge of the compound, finding exactly what she expects. She sits on her legs to see clearer what’s below her: there are three new recruits, sitting in a semi-circle and listening intently to their mentor. Their eyes trained on him, the trainees listen with such awe and concentration as if missing one word would detriment their future as warriors.

Their teacher dismisses them by lifting a hand, and just like toy soldiers, the new recruits get up and leave in formal fashion. She’s about to leave as well, but she pauses when the mentor turns, part of his face revealed.

 _Hah. Neji Hyuuga. So it is you._ She could have guessed as much, considering the long locks down his back all have remained. As it is, Neji is obviously quite the popular figure here. All the lowly guards and younger recruits idolize and worship the ground he walks on. Knowing the majority of the council regard him more favorably than their stuttering heir, he certainly projects a sense of pride that can never be filled. Even when Hinata is successfully removed from the equation, it’s still Hanabi that will inherit the future of the clan. She laughs at the prospect that Neji still feels sour about his fate.

Out from the side building, a brunette woman joins the training space and approaches him. Sakura has to narrow her eyes to place her, but with the way Neji gives her a kind smile to welcome her, it becomes obvious. It seems the ill-fated Hyuuga has found solace in marrying one his closest friends. With her hair down, Tenten looks much different here. Much older, just like her counterpart. Again, the sight triggers a bizarre sensation. The thought that her previous peers have grown up and are now ‘ _happily married’_ is terribly uncomfortable. It will take some adjustment on her part.

Sakura can’t hear what they’re whispering to each other, but she swears she has never seen Neji that friendly with anyone. When she observes them sharing a chaste kiss, she forces herself to look away. And before their gestures become anymore intimate, Sakura backs away completely from the scene.

She’ll honestly admit that she has stalked people in her life, but the last thing she wants to be called is a voyeur.

* * *

_Day 3_

Finally, _finally_ , Hinata is here. When Sakura first lays eyes on her, she admits that she’s impressed. The shy girl that Sakura knew once-upon-a-time is nowhere to be found. The blue-haired Princess has grown out of that temperament – amongst _other_ things – and replacing her is a newfound woman, carrying an air of tranquility and regality that only someone with an affluent name can possess.

How ironic it is that the girl who stood in the shadows now commands the attention of the room. On the other hand, she thinks how useless it was in her younger days when her and Ino strived for the least bit of popularity. The tables have definitely turned and she’ll give Hinata that credit.

Kurenai, Shino and Kiba also stand in Hinata’s present accompany, rendering memories of Sakura’s own three-person team that failed to last even a year. And just like Hinata, Ino, Neji and Tenten, it’s no surprise that Kiba and Shino grew up in their own particular ways. Although she respects his family name, Sakura is still puzzled by Kiba’s rough exterior; he’s looking more like a dog everyday. Shino, on the other hand, looks the same; she _still_ does not know what he looks like.

Considering they all belong to their prestigious clans, Sakura makes out that they’re conversing about some council meeting of some sort. She’s not entirely interested, but she does pick up a clue where Hinata will be going for the next couple of days.

The rest of day is rather uneventful. Stakeouts are fairly sluggish, but they’re the most important part of the mission. Because she has time on her hands, she decides to find the pigeon coop and send a coded update report for Orochimaru to find.

_Mission is going as per usual. Try to keep your head on until I return, okay?_

* * *

_Day 4_

Today, Sakura decides to forgo another day of stakeout; the other maids have started getting suspicious of her presence. It matters not, however; she has all the information she needs.

Map laid out on the floor, she draws mental paths in her head. The way in. And the way out. Both of which are often not the same thing. But just before she gets too caught up in the details, Sakura remembers their conversation. Hinata is representing her clan at the meeting tomorrow night. _Independently_. And if there were a rulebook for successful abductions, it would be to corner your target into a situation where they are alone.

It’s the perfect opportunity, really. Less riskier since it removes her guarded compound from the list of problems. For one, Sakura knows that Hinata is escorted to and from her home using a carriage. Second, since the meeting is scheduled for night, there’s no better coverage.

She starts planning.

By that afternoon, Sakura has it all figured out. Her small window of opportunity will come in between the time that Hinata’s coachman opens the door for her and hops back to the front of the carriage. She’ll knock him out with the same poison she used with the maid and whether or not Hinata hears the commotion, Sakura won’t hesitate to repeat the same process on the Princess. Riding on the chance that this vital part goes unnoticed by potential passerby, she’ll hijack the carriage, direct it to the quiet farming area on the East edge of town and abandon it as discreetly as possible. From there, she’ll haul Hinata’s unconscious body over one of the horses and hightail out of town through the East exit, which she observed is usually the least guarded of them all.

It’s not foolproof. Nothing ever is. There are always opportunities for improvisation and last-minute handling she’ll have to explore, but her main hope is that no one is killed in the process. The fewer the causalities, the lower the suspicion and the best she can keep her trace clear.

She just has to wait until tomorrow sundown.

* * *

_Day 5 – Dusk_

That night, she tries to get a decent sleep since she should be riding on horseback by the end of today, but it doesn’t come. It’s only a mere few hours after midnight when she’s disturbed by the sound the blood-curling screams and chaotic cries.

Her eyes and body immediately shoot upwards from the bed, awake but drowsy at the same time. Leaning over and drawing the curtain open for a peek, she instantly becomes alert when all she sees are douses of red and orange.

 _Fire_.

_The Hyuuga residence is on fire._

_What the heck?!_ Jumping out of bed, a train of curse words encircles her mind as she tries to make a coherent decision. At some point in the messy scramble of slipping into her clothes and storing her pack, she questions if this is a dream, but when she hears a boisterous explosion and another tirade of screams to follow, she rules that thought out.

She rushes out of the motel, skipping steps and bypassing the incoming crowd of Hyuugas taking cover here in the building. Expectedly, the smoke and dust assault her senses like a boulder once she’s outside and she has to cover her nose as to not inhale the smoke. She doesn’t know exactly what she’s looking for or why she’s approaching the fire, but her ears quickly catch the conversation of two security guards.

“Report! The northern exit is now blocked! Evacuate here as much as possible!” one of them shouts. “The perpetrator exited through the East!”

Sakura freezes up at that statement. _East exit? Perpetrator?_

The guard giving report gestures wildly to the others scrambling atop the gate walls. “Princess Hanabi was safely evacuated! The other is unconfirmed! Get this to the others!”

She blanches. _Are you kidding me?_ For a brief while, she has a moment of complete recall, and she has to question her sanity whether or not _she_ is the perpetrator. The story is all too familiar to her, and yet, how can she possibly have just woken up? How can Hinata already be abducted? She hasn’t laid a hand on her! In the time ticking that the smog and soot are evading her senses, her mind starts becoming clearer. Her plan did not involve a fire. It did not involve this much commotion. And if she really caused this much chaos, she certainly wouldn’t be standing here. In this rare circumstance, she’s actually _innocent_.

Feeling an intense need to escape, she bolts back to the motel, fearing that someone has been tracking her and intends to use her as a scapegoat. While it shouldn’t surprise her that someone else was targeting the Hyuuga Princess, it angers her that somebody actually beat her to it.

“There! There! That’s her!” she hears amongst the angry and noisy crowd inside the building. At first, she doesn’t think the voices are looking for her, but soon enough, the mass of people start to give way to the soldiers so they can trap _her_. She’s surrounded in mere seconds and when she mentally scrambles yet again for escape, she comes to a complete blank.

_What the hell is going on?_

The circle of soldiers open a mere fraction for their commander, and she can’t hold in her disdain and consternation once she lays eyes on that familiar figure, eye-smiling and casually strolling towards her.

“Mira, isn’t it? We’ve met before,” Kakashi says, coming to a stop before her, tone completely casual despite the loud commotion around them. “As you can probably tell, you’re under arrest.”

She looks at him in complete astonishment. “I had nothing to with the fire.”

The gray-haired man casually tips his head to the side. “Hmm. I made no such accusation. You are, however, under indictment of potential treason. So come on, let’s go.”

She feels her knees getting knocked from behind, causing her a hard fall to the ground. Soon enough, it’s her arms being tied around her back and she’s dragged upwards and made to follow the soldiers back towards their station.

She obliges with them for the most part, but as she considers her dim and troublesome circumstance in the next coming days, all she can think is ‘ _Well, shit’_.


	4. Ash Gray

Iron Bars. Conundrums. Partners.

* * *

_Night 1_

"Name?"

"Mira Sato."

"Age?"

"24."

Sakura watches as the bulky man across from her scribbles probable nonsense onto a notepad. Shifting her gaze to the side, her eyes find those familiar record files of her supposed identity and internship, sitting untouched and unopened on the table.

"What is your business here in Prath?" Ibiki Morino continues, voice neutral and disinterested.

Sakura looks at him blankly in the eyes, and then gestures to the folder. "You know, if you looked at my file, maybe we could stop wasting time with introductions," she suggests blatantly.

Seemingly unaffected by her crass comment, Ibiki doesn't look away. He does, however, put the ink down and leans in closer, arms propped onto the table. "Miss Mira, you are treading on thin ice as it is. If it is your wish to end this interrogation, then I suggest that you cooperate and be honest in your answers. I guarantee that it will be easier for you in the long-run."

She rolls her eyes and scoffs at the statement. If only he knew how familiar she is with incarceration. She knows the jurisdiction. She knows the law. She knows the inevitable outcome. It's funny how history has a way of repeating itself because here she is, six years later, committed and imprisoned. _Again_.

She wants to spit at his face. " _Bullshit._ Easier? For you, maybe. The mandate for treason is the same anywhere, and this place is no exception. The only penalty is _death_ , so correct me if I'm wrong, but I fail to see how the 'truth' can save me."

He leans back on his chair, arms crossed, just a bit taken by her harsh remark. "But things can change, can they not? We certainly make exceptions for those who deserve it," he counters, receiving a quizzical eyebrow from her in response. "Back to my point, you're free to say whatever you want. But since you're so _knowledgeable_ , you should know that we _will_ be getting a confession out of you whether you like it or not. Believe me when I say this is only the beginning; there are much, much worse things to come."

The underlying threat is palpable because she knows exactly what he's talking about. If these interrogations won't get to her, then certainly some restricted powers will come into play. Six years ago, she confessed before they could torture her like that. There was no use wasting her already-tarnished dignity by giving up her mind for others to dissect.

Ibiki moves to grab a few items from under the table. "Moving on. We searched your room and found some interesting things. I'd like for you to explain them." With Sakura watching carefully, Ibiki reveals a few familiar items in front of her, laying them out in organized fashion on the desk. Once she recognizes their familiarity, she curses inwardly to herself. Starting at her left, he gestures to a few of her 'home-brewed' poison jars. "Let's start with these, shall we?"

Of all the things that raise a red flag, this is surprisingly one of the least threatening. Shrugging, she attempts to feign nonchalance. "I study poison. I'm on a medical internship. It goes hand in hand with each other, don't you think?"

Oddly enough, he doesn't prod any further. Instead, he quickly shifts to the next item on the table, which will inevitably prove a lot harder to explain. It's her maid uniform. Or rather, someone else's uniform. Ibiki clears his throat to catch her attention, "Fair enough. This next item however… I'm sure has a more _interesting_ backstory. Care to explain why you own a maid's uniform?"

Sakura pauses for just a moment, searching quickly and cautiously for an appropriate response. As daunting as this evidence is, she'll be damned if she told the truth. However, if it's one thing she knows about interrogations, evasiveness is often met with terrible consequences; better to act direct as to not provoke suspicion.

"What about the uniform?" she inquires, as if the evidence means absolutely nothing. "Am I not allowed to partake in the occasional revelry and debauchery?"

Ibiki rolls his eyes, clearly not buying her comment, but can't refute it either. Out from under the desk, he pulls out something else entirely. It's a rolled up document. And as he unravels the paper, she curses more to herself. "Miss Mira. In your room, we found a personalized map of the Hyuuga residence. And before you answer, I'm also expecting to hear why have you have scribbled notes of the Princess' schedule at the top of the page."

Sakura swallows hard. Even she admits that this is almost un-defendable (even though she _still_ had nothing to with the fire). With how this exasperating this conversation is turning out, it's becoming increasingly more difficult to resist addressing the bigger elephant in the room.

"Miss Mira, you should know that we've gathered multiple pieces of evidence suggesting treasonous action towards the Hyuuga clan. So if you think-"

"Okay, I can't do this. I need to stop you here," Sakura cuts off rudely, collecting a breath before resuming. "Can I ask you something? Do you _seriously_ think that I started that fire? That it was _me_ who kidnapped the Hyuuga girl? What, do you think I'm hiding her in my pocket? Or under my bed? Can I clarify something for you? If I had abducted the Princess, I would be hightailing it out of here as fast as possible. More than that, I certainly wouldn't be _here_ , putting up with this ridiculous interrogation."

Ibiki sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Miss, whether or not you committed the deed, your involvement cannot be ruled out. Your questionable status and evidence suggests otherwise after all."

Sakura exhales loudly, now frustrated. Who knew it would actually be harder to convince people of the truth? "Look, I said this before and I'm going to say it again. I had nothing to do with it," she says with finality.

Surely not defeated by her statement, Ibiki rises from his seat and gestures for one of the guards to come over. "Fine. We'll resume tomorrow," he says to her specifically. Heel turning towards the door, he announces quite loudly, "Hold off her meals."

And as she's escorted back to her jail cell none-too-gently, she catches a peek of the orange and golden sky outside; the real perpetrator has been on the run for almost a day.

_Damn it._

* * *

_Night 2_

The next day goes by rather unproductively, both on her and Ibiki's part. Her tiny cell offers very little comfort and she's starting to feel claustrophobic and lightheaded. Maybe it's the lack of food and sleep, but she can't deny the feeling of her body wanting to turn itself inside out. Her head hurts, her stomach is recoiling and she's feeling the pangs of doom and destruction if she doesn't find refuge soon.

As expected, Ibiki tries to wheedle a confession out of her. _Any_ confession. He continues to reveal the telling evidence, and she responds with a simple 'no' and 'I didn't do it'. No doubt the ruse will continue until they wear her out. While Sakura has been in jail before, it seems different this time round. She insists that she's nothing more than a scapegoat, but it lands on deaf ears.

Fearing that her sanity will teeter over the edge, she urges herself to make escape plans.

* * *

_Night 3_

On Day three, she doesn't get escorted back to the interrogation room as previously informed. Rather, she receives an unwelcome visitor. Unfortunately, this 'visitor' seems to have no purposeful intention other than to perpetuate her misery. She wants nothing more than to wipe that irritatingly nonchalant look off his face.

"I brought you food," Kakashi informs casually, sliding a plate of gray and brown mush along the floor and inside her cell.

Cold and hungry as she is, Sakura remains motionless, lying on her side against the stone hard floor, purposefully turned away from him. "I don't want it."

Kakashi tips his head at her in question. "Hmm? Are you sure?"

She nods stiffly. "Uh-huh… might be drugged, poisoned… who knows," she responds sluggishly.

"But you haven't eaten in two days," he counters.

"Still not worth the risk," she answers with a stamp of finality, wanting to put an end to that conversation. With a hand, she motions vaguely in his direction. "Hatake, if you're here to gloat, go somewhere else. I'm not in the mood."

"My, my. You've gotten quite sour and might I say, _aggressive_ , since our first meeting. I wonder if this is your true nature…" he ponders uselessly, to which she has no response. "Anyway, I'm just here to check on you. Nothing more than that, really."

She scoffs quietly. "Got nothing better to do, huh? Does that mean you and your men have captured the _real_ perpetrator?"

Kakashi hums nonchalantly. "Not yet, actually. The cloaked individual disappeared without a trace. We're still tracking him down."

"Oh. Too bad. So are you going to keep me here until you catch him?" she tantalizes, not at all surprised at the incompetence of the council's military.

When her question is met with complete silence, she turns her head to him slowly, the muscles in her body agonizing with the smallest shift. Kakashi remains motionless across those iron bars, but he's staring at her with a curious haze. She raises an eyebrow at his actions. "What?"

Kakashi sighs. "Look, I'll be honest. I _know_ that you had nothing to do with the fire. I saw your plans. You infiltration plan was only meant for one. You clearly work alone."

Caught off guard, Sakura fails to find the words to refute.

"However…" he continues, her silence encouraging. "… even though you had no part in that particular night, it is clear that you were plotting against the Hyuuga family. You had an intention to inflict harm and kidnap the Hyuuga heir, and that itself is enough to warrant an arrest for treason. I hope this is clear to you."

Sakura finally finds the words to bite back. In an effort for emphasis, she pushes herself up to face him, despite the aching muscles in her body. "Is that what's supposed to make me a criminal?" she retorts, chuckling deliriously at the accusation. "You know, with that sort of attitude, you might as well arrest half of the city then. It might help to offer more phony comfort to the Hyuuga clan," she hisses, unable to bottle up this growing tirade that has persisted for more than six years.

Kakashi narrows his eyes at her. "Do indulge me, Miss, but can you clarify what you mean by that?"

Sakura sighs. "I _mean_ false reassurance. That's another reason that I'm here, right? You need something, _someone_ , to appease the public? Make everyone feel 'safe'?" she raises, inciting a perturbed look from him. "Oh come on. Don't act so surprised. This is a classist society. As long as the decision favors the wretched and money-bloated clans, it's called justice. So while you waste your time dawdling and scapegoating me, the _real_ kidnapper is out there rejoicing and making bank with his new premium bounty."

The look he gives her after her small rant is shrewd and insightful, almost acknowledging. "So you're accusing us of deceiving the public at your expense." It's not a question.

Sakura shrugs her shoulders. "I guess that's what makes it a façade."

Responding with a nod and a thoughtful pause, Kakashi then casually turns on his heel, making for the exit down the hallway. "Hmm. Your words obviously have some background to them. While I'm curious to know where you come from and who you work for, I have a feeling I won't be hearing it from you," he says, an underlying threat lacing his voice. Before disappearing from her line of sight, he makes sure to look her in the eye. "…And just between us, you can parade around with that _borrowed_ face of yours, but you can't fool me. I know you're guilty of so much more. Not to worry though, I haven't told anyone yet so consider yourself lucky."

Sakura perks up at this, and then tries to conceal her surprise.

She watches him wave a farewell hand to her. "I'll look forward to knowing your history. I'm sure it'll be interesting. In the meantime, do eat your food."

Once he leaves, she scowls because she knows that the victory is his. He knows it's just a mask, that _she's_ just a façade. She should have figured as much. How did it escape her that he and Sasuke have one very important thing in common? While she doubts that he'll draw the name _Sakura Haruno_ right away, he's the closest to figuring it out and that is enough for her to start worrying.

* * *

_Night 4_

"Agh, shit!"

The bucket full of ice-cold water trickles down her face, leaving both burning and numbing sensations wherever they go. Feeling choked up and drowned, she coughs up the fluid lodged in her lungs. At this point, they might as well suspend and dunk her repeatedly over a water tank.

"This is only the beginning," Ibiki repeats so nonchalantly and graciously, pacing in annoying circles around her as she's bound to a chair. "However, should you decide to tell the truth…?"

Sakura gasps wildly for air, but she swears to herself that with or without breath, she will not utter a word. Her dignity might be wasted, but at least she still has her will. Going for a sarcastic response, she heaves out, "Oh, the truth? Wow, why didn't I think of doing that?"

Another bucket of water is pitched at her face.

She turns her head to minimize the blow, but the icy water still makes her want to retch. As she shakes off more droplets from her face, she finds that using foul words is her only way of retaliating. It's counterproductive and useless, but she enjoys the small kicks she receives from doing it; better to have some gratification during torture than to have none. "Hey Ibiki. You know, for a man of justice, it's odd that you're such a sadist."

"A sadist? Hmm. I actually think I'm quite reasonable," he retorts.

"Really? Because it looks like-"

Cutting her off, he hurls another bucket of water at her.

"Shit! Geez, you might as well just throw a punch at me!" she clamors out, the water feeling like millions of tiny knives jabbing at her skin.

Dropping the bucket, Ibiki stops in front of her, his large size appearing more imposing and daunting than usual. "Oh, is that your preference of torture? Would that get you talking?" he says, half-seriously and half-jokingly. "Let me tell you this. Water dousing is mere child's play. Just wait until you feel what a _real_ beating is like."

Sakura can't stop the spiteful words from coming out of her mouth. "Oh yeah? Is that how you got your scars?"

As deserved, she receives another bucket of water.

"Watch your tongue, _girl_. You're already in deep waters."

* * *

_Night 5_

Eventually, she has to force down the mush that they call food. It was either that or starve until death. And although her situation looks dim, she refuses to doubt her ability to escape this prison. She's done it before, and she can damn well do it again.

After another round of water dousing, Sakura forces herself to stay alert. She examines her scarce resources, heavily pressed to be creative. There is almost nothing in her cell. Just a pile of dirty hay where she's supposed to sleep and a metal bucket intended for toileting purposes. There isn't even a window.

Obviously, she's not thin enough to squeeze through the bars (nor does she plan on doing so), but there is still hope. Familiar with this building, she figures that she'll have to improvise her way out, but for now, the first step is getting across these bars. If possible, she would like to avoid bolting out of here by force. The last thing she wants to do is spur a public and high-profile chase with her as the primary target.

Dislodging the metal wire from the bucket, she tests its malleability and molds a curve at the tip. Although worn and rusty, this could serve as one half of a lock pick. For the other half, she scrounges around the hay pile and floors for anything that could fit through a keyhole. Her saving grace arrives when she realizes that she's wearing a hairpin.

 _Oh, Bless my past self._ Bending the pin in half, she moves to the iron bars.

Since she's behind the lock, the angle is difficult. Blindly feeling for the structure with her arms tangled in an awkward position, she inserts her makeshift tools and fumbles around for a while, praying silently that she'll hear that successful click.

 _Come on, Sakura._ She fumbles with it a little more, increasingly becoming impatient and motivated to escape as the impending thought of another bucket of water thrown at her sets in. For tomorrow, she heard under their whispered breaths that they would delve into something more ' _intrusive'_. Whatever it is, she wants no part of it. It's only a matter of time until-

 _Click_.

At first, she perks up thinking that this was a success, but when she reconsiders, the relief disappears as quickly as its remained. That 'click' was _not_ the sound of an open lock. Pulling out her tools, she realizes that it was the sound of the bucket wire snapping in half.

 _Ah, shit_. In this cell, there is no way she can find a replacement. With all that wasted energy, she slumps down to the floor and re-entertains the thought of escaping by force. She's not a fan of flashy escapes, but this situation might necessitate it.

For some, this would be the breaking point. But she's neither a hopeful nor a hopeless person, and her sanity has long-waned for her to care. Simply, the best thing about having nothing and no one to lose is the freedom to be imprudent. And while it makes her foolhardy, it gives her less to cry about.

Perhaps she will escape here by force after all.

* * *

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

Footsteps. Lots of them.

In her slow and groggy wake, she registers the sound of loud and hasty footsteps thumping and vibrating beneath her across the floors. Past the door and down the hall of her desolate cell, she hears several guards clamoring out orders before another stampede of footsteps rush and cross each other in indiscernible directions.

Her body jolts awake in shock when the metal door is busted open, revealing a shadowed figure. Squinting her eyes, the dead giveaway is the swish of his lengthy coat. Never having felt more relieved over these past few days, she attempts to stand.

Finally, _finally_ , she's getting out of here.

"Sakura, get up. We're leaving," Sasuke utters without falter, drawing his sword to sever the chains that keep her in confinement.

"It's about time…" she groans out, using the walls for support to help her stand. She glances back in between Sasuke and open door, expecting and counting down the seconds until a barrage of guards come bursting through. Over the years, despite the troublesome number of days she's spent doing time, she's never escaped like this. Orochimaru's lackeys are far from reliable, and oddly enough, Sasuke is actually the last person she'd expect to deliver her rescue.

"Hey, about the mission. I couldn't– there was a fire and someone in a cloak…" she stutters out with her tired and uneven breaths.

Not-so-gently, Sasuke plants his hands at her sides and proceeds to haul her over his shoulder like a sack of flour, hearing a displeased 'Oof!' from Sakura in her new unsettling position. "Sakura, I know all about the incident. There's actually more to it that you don't know."

Head and arms hanging loose as she's uncomfortably draped atop his shoulder, talking becomes even more difficult. "More? How so?"

"I'll explain later." And suddenly, a new onset of vertigo sets in as he starts rushing out the cell and back into the hallway. A sharp turn here, another sprint there, kicking another set of doors open… With her surroundings swaying and whirling all around her, the jagged movements make her to want to vomit acid down his back. It's also making it extremely difficult for her to feel grateful and alert – let alone conscious.

Amidst the run, she fights and struggles to keep herself together. The last thing she hears is more chaotic clamour of voices following them as she blacks out in exhaustion.

* * *

At one point in her blackout, she dreams of still being in prison.

At another point, she remembers icy cold water.

Taking an odd turn, she dreams of her father.

Towards the end, she hears a familiar voice.

 _Sakura, wake up_.

Her eyes are impossibly heavy as consciousness slowly trickles back into her brain.

_Sakura, wake up, damn it. I know you're in there. Time is wasting._

The cast of light from the side bothers her eyes as she opens them. Squinting against it, she turns her head away. "Ugh…" she voices out sluggishly.

She hears a sigh and a familiar voice. "Geez. Took you long enough. I'm tired of babysitting you."

She attempts to open her eyes again, more cautiously this time. "…what happened?"

"Tall, dark and handsome saved your ass is what happened. You've been out for two days, you useless slug," that same sarcastic voice replies. "How was prison, by the way?"

Catching a hint of red hair in the corner of her eye, Sakura sighs when she confirms the other presence in the room. And because they're 'friends', she swats a hand in her direction to tone down the unwelcome sarcasm. "Karin, where are we?"

"Back at the keep, of course. Where else?"

Slowly settling in, Sakura realizes that she's been reverted back to her pink-haired self; a sigh of relief courses through her that she doesn't have to go through that painful transformation process again. She also realizes that parts of her are covered in bandages and as she attempts to examine them, a flood of memories from the past week suddenly arise, reminding her of the mess she left behind. Hinata, Orochimaru, Sasuke, Kakashi, Ibiki, an unknown rival in a cloak… all these things suddenly conglomerate in her brain. Feeling nauseated, she tries her best to push it to the back of her mind.

Noticing her expression, Karin hops off the desk she was perched on. "Hey, since you're 'ready' to go, I'll go call them in. You're probably _very_ eager to know all the shit that's been going on."

Sakura rolls her eyes, knowing Karin is just punishing her and enjoying every minute of it. She's scuttled out of the office before Sakura can even stop her.

Thinking logically, she tries to put the entire situation into perspective. There's a kidnapped Princess, an unknown perpetrator, an army that's not doing its job to locate her and a couple of outside thugs that happened to be involved (them). There is no light in this circumstance. Especially not in her case. It's like a derailed fairytale. How did things spiral into this convoluted mess? Clearly, she only knows half the story.

Her attention is brought the front door, where Sasuke and Orochimaru come walking through (or in Orochimaru's case, _limping_ through with his cane).

"Sakura, nice to see you're finally settled down. I've been meaning to finally speak with you," Orochimaru greets, taking a seat on the armchair across her while Sasuke takes to standing at the side. "I won't bother to rehash your failure. I'm disappointed, but there's a larger issue at hand."

"And what is that, pray tell?" she interjects, feeling antsy.

Orochimaru exchanges glances with Sasuke, silently communicating who between them should proceed. The momentary pause itself irks her, and it makes her wonder whether people are becoming more irritating or if she's just becoming angrier (probably the latter).

Eventually, Sasuke resumes the talk. "Sakura, what do you remember?"

She rolls her eyes again, not up to revisiting the incidents. "Umm… Hinata was taken. Somebody beat me to the punch. I was thrown behind bars. Does that cover it?"

Orochimaru abruptly speaks up. "Did you blow your cover?"

She shakes her head. "No…" she answers simply, realizing quickly that she spoke too soon. "Actually… Hatake is suspicious. He knows more than he should," she corrects herself, inwardly cursing that irritating man for putting her through those interrogations.

Sasuke scoffs, shaking his head in displeasure. "Of course it would be him. He does possess something that shouldn't belong to him," he says gruffly, the spit in his voice not going unnoticed.

Sakura observes him closely, aware of how Sasuke regards the Hatake as a thief, a crook and an 'unworthy' holder of the Sharingan. If only she cared about his clan pride. If it's up to her, there's not a lot to be proud of when you bear the Uchiha name, especially since most of them are wiped out anyway. And while she does highly regard the power of the Sharingan, she also criticizes its tragic and flawed nature. These 'precious' eyes are passed around like hot potato, for goodness sakes.

"Uhh, so where do we go from here? Do I ditch this entire bounty?" Sakura pipes up, annoyed with all the pointless dawdle that has occurred thus far.

Again, Orochimaru signals for Sasuke to continue. "Sakura. On the night of the fire, I was close by. I actually meant to pay you a visit that morning, so you can imagine my surprise when, on my way to the city, the Hyuuga residence suddenly caught fire," he informs. "At the time, I thought it was uncharacteristic of you to plan something so indiscreet."

Sakura grits her teeth here, because this would be the umpteenth time she would repeat this sentence. "For the last time: I had _nothing_ to do with that fire."

"Yes. I became aware of that afterwards," he says, satisfying her because he's the first to actually believe it. "In fact, what you don't know is that I actually _ran_ into the cloaked man who abducted the Hyuuga."

Her eyebrows lift in surprise and suddenly, she's more interested in this conversation. "Oh. What happened next?"

"Sakura, it turns out this perpetrator made hundreds of clones of himself and the girl. He sent the military and myself on some wild goose chase, drawing us out in various directions until we all reached the outskirts of the city where he disappeared. Needless to say, the tactic worked. His scent disappeared and everyone hit a dead end."

Sakura attempts to process the story in her head, trying to fill in the multiple loopholes but failing to do so. "I suppose that's why Hatake and the rest are still tracking him down. By the way, were you able to get a good look? Do you know who this person is?"

Sasuke shakes his head 'no'. "It could be anybody. For all I know, this individual was wearing some sort of disguise. That's not the entire story though. It gets more confusing. Before the clone disappeared… it left a note."

"A note?"

"Yeah. And it wasn't an accident either." From the inside of his coat, Sasuke pulls out a small and folded strip of parchment and hands it to her.

Unraveling the peculiar token, she's about to ask whether everyone was given a note, but her question is answered upon first glance. This piece of paper isn't a just a memo; it's a personal letter. A _challenge_. She reads it out loud.

_For the Snake,_

_Through forces divine her whereabouts are sealed._

_But especially for you, this clue she's revealed._

_Take heed. Take heed. For I have what you desire._

_So what shall you do now?_

_Cool the flames? Or fan the fire?_

_With perfect harmony as above, so below,_

_Imitate the mantis upon the mammoth's canvas bestow._

An uneasy silence settles across the room, only the crackles from the fireplace filling the atmosphere.

Sakura, having absolutely no words, lowers her hand and glances unceremoniously between Sasuke and Orochimaru, searching for answers. She holds the clue up for them to see. "Umm… what is this?"

"It's a riddle," Orochimaru says dully.

She rolls her eyes. "Yes. I understand that, but to what end? This cryptic letter is addressed to _you_. From someone who knows about you and your contacts," she puts into perspective. When she doesn't receive the reaction she expects, she puts on an appalled look. "Orochimaru, please, _please_ don't tell me you're thinking about taking the bait."

The Snake waves a dismissive hand to rid of her comment. "Sakura, my dear. There's no need to turn a blind eye. This is about somebody who's inviting us to play a dangerous game. Who are we to refuse?"

This time, Sakura can't dispel the shock in her face at his curt and offhand suggestion. "Are you joking? Orochimaru, this is probably another wild goose chase! Why would we even bother? What happened to upholding 'sacred anonymity' and staying low?"

The Snake raises a hand to stop her. "It's clear that anonymity has already been broken. Besides, this perpetrator is leaving more than just a message. Believe me, there's a greater scheme and intent to this game and I will not cede to such lowly crooks. Sakura, I'm afraid you are not absolved of your duties. I will ask that you to investigate this further and hunt him down."

Face dropping, she sighs in defeat. And if it weren't for the fact that she's indebted to the Snake, she would have been out of the door already. "But what about the Hyuuga girl?"

Orochimaru rises from his seat. "Your objective remains very much the same, my dear. Consider this as an extension and a second chance." Picking up his cane, he starts moving towards the door. "Oh, and Sasuke. Do help her in solving this conundrum. Two heads work better than one, after all."

Sakura waits until Orochimaru's exited the room before shifting to the other presence in the room. There's an awkward pause that settles between them. In the back of her head, she hears Karin's annoying voice and words talking her ear off.

She sighs. "Hey, uhh… Sasuke? Thanks, for… bailing me out back there. Karin told me what happened. I was miserable, if you couldn't tell," she says grudgingly, wanting so badly to get that out of her chest. He responds with a simple 'Hn', which she regards is enough acknowledgement of her apology. Getting off the couch and standing on her feet, she rereads the clue once again. "So… you've known about this for a while. Got any leads?"

He shrugs. "Nothing worth mentioning."

Nodding once, she ponders for just a moment. _Let's get this straight. This person wants us to find him. He left a clue specifically for us (or the Snake, for that matter) so we could find him. He disappeared without a trace, hoping we'll follow, which serves purpose of this riddle. Thus, in theory, we should be capable and well-equipped to solve it since it's what he wants, right?_

Think it through more carefully, Sakura moves for the door, which draws Sasuke's attention. "Where are you going?"

Sakura halts her trek to glance at him. "To hit the books. As smart as I think I am, I doubt staring at this clue will clear up its contrived nonsense. You coming with?"

She's surprised when – albeit grudgingly – he follows.

* * *

_As above, so below. As above, so below. Perfect harmony as above, so below._

"Ugh. What is the point of this bullshit?" she says more to herself, hurling the book at the wall. Sakura doesn't bother picking it up, grabbing the next threadbare paperback from the stacked pile.

Five hours. It feels a lot longer than that, but that's how long she's secluded herself in here. She's changed herself out of her tattered prison clothes and into something fresh, had a hearty meal and slowly worked herself back into her daily grind. And yet, she's got nothing. No definite location. No significant leads.

On the stone floors she laid out a large map of the continent, ticking off places, setting markers of deductions and wild guesses. Dusty books and manuscripts are tossed here and there, making a complete utter mess of Orochimaru's library.

Sasuke, who's been in and out of the room, has offered nothing but his dull and silent company. Stoic and lifeless as he is, he leans against the only clean desk in the room, away from her clutter. "Sakura. Have you figured anything out?" he breaks silence upon noting her growing hysteria.

She doesn't flicker or bat an eye at him, her concentration focused on skimming the pages before her. "Not much, though I'm certain the last two lines are all that needs deciphering. The first five are merely instructions," she answers as a matter-of-fact. Slamming the book shut, she tosses it to the nearby desk and reaches for the clue, reading it through over again. "One thing is for sure though: We're looking for a shrine."

He tilts his head in mild curiosity. "A shrine? How do you know that?"

She holds the note out as if it's supposed to make it clear. "It says to 'imitate the mantis'. And if you know anything about mantises, their legs are bent in prayer position. It's how they got their name," she explains in small detail. "In other words, I'm certain it's also a far-fetched way of leading us to a shrine."

"Well, that narrows it down. What's with the frustration?"

Sakura gestures to the map on the floor. "Uhh, Sasuke? There are hundreds of shrines scattered all throughout this continent. I can't just close my eyes and _pick_ one." Massaging the bridge of her nose, she slumps down on a chair, feeling the mental exhaustion catching up to her. "Anyway, that's all I got. What about you? Have you any thoughts about the riddle?"

He sighs at her question and looks down. "Not really," he says honestly. "I'm not too fond of the obscure words, so I'm taking a different approach. As opposed to trying to dissect the clue itself, I'm trying figuring out _how_ I should interpret the riddle instead."

Sakura raises a skeptical eyebrow, unimpressed with his 'approach'. "Go on," she encourages, despite that she's already lost interest in his findings.

"Are we supposed to read it literally? Symbolically? Psychologically? Maybe even scientifically?" he asks in a rhetorical manner. "All of it might be philosophical for all I know. I mean, I'm not a scholar, but maybe it would help to look at it from different perspectives."

Although his advice is received with little appreciation, she nods her head anyway. "Well then. If you need me, I'll be over there, burying myself through the next pile of books."

* * *

"How fares the riddle-decoding?" Karin asks with ultimate nonchalance, handing Sakura three bottles of poison jars bought from the apothecary at the nearest town.

"It's been swell," Sakura replies, irritated and antsy. It's the morning after and she feels mentally exhausted, not just from the clue, but also the lack of sleep. Even though she still deems this entire ordeal as counterproductive, she refuses to be defeated. A challenge is a challenge no matter how meaningless and she is about as competitive as it gets. "Thanks for picking these up. I'm still bitter that they confiscated everything from me, including all of my hard-worked poisons. God, I didn't know I could hate that city even more than I already do."

Karin waits for Sakura to finish stuffing the jars in her pouch. "It can't be that bad now. It must be nice – working with the Uchiha. He's easy on the eyes."

Sakura pauses for just a moment to process the redhead's words. "…Ah, yes. It's been _super_ so far. I mean, he's only threatened to kill me just _once_ , so I'd say our friendship is off to a good start," she pokes fun, drawing humor from a serious situation that happened not too long ago. Apparently, being a wisecrack is all she can do to cope with her exhaustion.

"Oh come on. He also saved your ass, remember?" Karin painfully reminds, effectively silencing the pink-haired girl from joking any more about her budding relationship with Sasuke. Out of her back pocket, Sakura watches as Karin pull out a metal object. "Oh, I almost forgot. I also got you a new weapon, as requested."

Sakura stares at the silver weapon dropped into her hands with a perplexed face. "What is this? I thought I asked you to get me a dagger."

"No, you didn't. You requested for a _weapon_ , which is exactly what you're holding right now," Karin corrects, irritatingly using technicalities and semantics to sway the argument in her favor.

Sakura examines the piece of metal on all its sides, not the least bit convinced. "Karin, how am I supposed to inflict pain with this? Or fend off somebody? It doesn't even have a sharp end!"

"It's still a weapon! Geez, just be open-minded for once in your life. It's not like you're going to be decapitating anyone sometime soon."

"Karin! This is _not_ a weapon! This is a tuning fork!" Just to make her point more apparent and clear, she flicks one side of the fork, allowing the soft and high-pitched tune to resound their ears. "Just admit that the salesman probably swindled you into buying this."

The redhead reacts with offense. "I was not swindled! It can channel magic, if you didn't know. Look, either you make do with what I got you or you buy your own damn dagger. Those are your choices."

Sakura rolls her eyes at Karin's antics. The redhead can be the most helpful and aggravating person if she wanted to be, and yet, she always chooses the latter. Sighing in defeat, Sakura brushes off the petty issue as best she can. There's no such thing as winning an argument with Karin.

Reminding herself of the task at hand, Sakura grudgingly pockets the metal fork and looks towards the ruins. "Fine, I'll take the stupid thing. I should get back anyway."

Karin nods, happy with her small victory. "Okay. If you don't mind, please give handsome-boy my regards. And be nice to him. Maybe then he'll finally notice you."

As the redhead barks out in laughter at Sakura's expense (she regrets telling Karin about her childhood crush), she pushes that thought to the back of her mind as heads back to the library.

* * *

_Five days in prison, a couple days spent getting back here, knocked out for two more days and wasted all of yesterday getting nowhere, which means the crook is approximately a week and a half ahead of us, which gives me no time to solve this. Perfect harmony? As above, so below? The mammoth's canvas?_

The more she stares at the words, the more she's hoping for a much-needed epiphany-

"I think I've figured it out."

Sakura, train of thought interrupted, glances up to Sasuke, eyes wide and expression skeptical. "…Excuse me?"

Sasuke lowers himself to the ground in front of the continent map, flicking and brushing away all the markers locating potential shrines. "Perfect harmony? As above, so below? The riddle we've been working on for a day now? I think I might have a lead."

Sakura, remaining wary and doubtful, shoots him a raised eyebrow. She refuses to believe that Sasuke might have beaten her to it. He is intelligent – that much, she will admit – but their fields of expertise originate from entirely different backgrounds. He's quick on the field, has great instinct and can master a technique in half the time expected. She, on the other hand, relies heavily on books and old texts as her foundation of knowledge, studying meticulously until satisfied.

In light of their rocky history, she also hates to _lose_ to him.

"Sakura, what do you know about the phrase 'as above, so below'?"

She contemplates it, pausing momentarily. "Umm… If I recall correctly, it's hermetic language, synonymous to 'as within, so without'. Take it like yin and yang, where good, bad, man, nature, the world, the universe – you name it – all function and act as co-existing units to create a sense of balance and interconnectedness," she explains, almost recalling verbatim from the text. "The expression… it's abstract, open for interpretation, and quite frankly, difficult to derive any concrete findings."

Sasuke nods. "That might be so, but…" Sakura watches intently as he places a marker atop one of the locations, much to her confusion. "We know for certain that this clue will lead us to a particular location. You already deduced that we're being led to a shrine – which I agree with – but then it becomes a matter of which one," he starts, putting their situation into perspective. "You bring up a good point about balance. Actually, I'm certain that it relates to the 'perfect harmony' portion of the riddle. Just like you, I interpreted it philosophically at first. Then, I looked at it literally, scientifically, even musically and… nothing. But, then I remembered: this riddle is supposed to point us to a particular direction."

She raises a quizzical eyebrow. "I understand that. I thought it was self-explanatory. Is there something I'm missing here?"

He sighs. "Sakura. Currently, we no longer use these names, but do you remember a time when the lands were split based on their inherent elements?"

Sakura, her mind sparked by the mere thought, instantly reverses her sour mood. Inwardly, she reprimands herself for not considering it. "I remember."

"Well, when I was young, I was taught that certain elements could join in 'harmony' as to wield additional control over nature. Like forming wood, from water and earth. Or lava, from earth and fire." He gestures down to the map. "Based on this presumption, I mapped out all the possible combinations and their locations."

Sakura, peering down, tips her head to the marker he placed. "And what combination did you end up with?"

"Ice."

She stares at him blankly. "Wind and water? How?"

Sasuke takes a deep breath and leans back to sit on his heels. "Well, it gets complicated from here. First of all, it makes sense symbolically; tying the higher element of wind to a baser element like water."

"Does this refers back to that 'above and below' bit?"

He nods. " _That,_ and this place is filled with mountainous terrain. If you read old manuscripts, you'll know that mountains are symbolized as the vault that connects the waters 'below' with the skies 'above'. Even from a scientific standpoint, there's a phenomenon where wind meets water in 'perfect harmony'. It occurs in cold places near bodies of water; often cool air temperatures interact with water droplets to form-"

"Mist," she finishes for him, despite being dumbfounded.

Sasuke gestures for her to look at the map again. "Branching off that conclusion, this clue might be pointing us to the 'Land of Water' or the 'Mist Village', otherwise known as 'Port Caligo' today."

Sakura gets on her knees across from Sasuke to get a better look. As useless as she's been throughout this entire conversation, she needs to find a way to contribute. Scanning her eyes through the inked map, she contemplates it carefully before pointing to her target location. "Ah, here. Mount Eskelon. There's a shrine there, dedicated to the Lunar Dragon. That's probably the 'mammoth's canvas', right?"

"You think so?"

Sakura shrugs. "It's our best shot. I mean, we don't have much of a choice anyway." Now energized and motivated, she rises from her position, quickly counting the number of days in her head. "If we leave now, we could be there in three days. We'll just hash out the details later. Are you ready to go?"

He moves to grab his sword, strapping it across his back to make it accessible from behind. "Yeah. Let's go."

She allows him through the door first and once he's not looking, her expression turns somewhat pensive. Falling a couple steps behind him, she's overcome with a sense of thoughtfulness. This is probably the first time she's ever appreciated Sasuke like _this_ , without the fanatic, crazed and obsessed girl urges to be impressed by _anything_ he does. She muses that this is how it should be – how it should have _been_.

Relaxing her shoulders, she hopes that things can only get better from here.


End file.
